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LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
0¥  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

MRS.    HENRY  ADAMS 


>* 


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The  Fair  Ladies  of 
Hampton  Court 


^y^^.:%/'»^>  iio 


The  Fair  Ladies  of 
Hampton  Court 

By 

Clare  Jerrold 

With  Introduction  by  Walter  Jerrold 

"7  have  beauties  to  tmfold" — George  Wither 


With  Photogravure  Portrait  and  Twenty-one 
other  Portraits 


Boston 

Little,  Brown,  and  Company 

191 1 


All  risrhts  reserved 


Ai 


SANTA   BARBARA 


Contents 


I.  The  Matchless   Beauties 

II.  Anne  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York 

III.  Barbara  Villiers,  Duchess  of  Cleveland 

IV.  Frances  Stuart,  Duchess  of  Richmond 
V.  Mrs.  Jane  Middleton 

VI.  Mary  Bagot,  Countess  of  Falmouth 

VII.  Elizabeth  Hamilton,  Comtesse  de  Gramont 

VIII.  Margaret  Brooke,  Lady  Denham 

IX.  Frances  Brooke,  Lady  Whitmore 

X.  Susan  Armine,  Lady  Belasyse 

XL   Elizabeth     Wriothesley,     Countess     of 
Northumberland 

XII.   Henrietta  Boyle,  Countess  of  Rochester 

XIII.  Anne  Digby,  Countess  of  Sunderland 

XIV.  Louise  Renee  de  Keroualle,  Duchess  of 

Portsmouth 

XV.    Carey  Eraser,  Countess  of  Peterborough 
XVI.   Frances  Whitmore,  Lady  Middleton 
XVII.    Isabella  Bennet,  Duchess  of  Grafton 
XVIII.    Diana  de  Vere,  Duchess  of  St.  Albans 
XIX.    Margaret  Cecil,  Countess  of  Ranelagh 
XX.    Mary  Compton,  Countess  of  Dorset 
XXI.    Mary  Bentinck,  Countess  of  Essex  . 
Index  .  ... 


13 

27 

45 

76 
no 

122 

167 

172 

183 

203 
210 

229 
273 
281 
284 

293 
299 

304 
310 

313 


List  of  Illustrations 

Miss  Pitt,  afterwards  Mrs.  Scrope  (after  Kneller) 

Frontispiece 

Princess  Mary,  later  Queen  of  England,  as  to  face 

'  "^  PAGE 

Diana  (after  Lely)  .  .  .         .        14 

Anne  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York  (after  Lely)      .         .         8 

Barbara  Villiers,  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  as  Minerva 

(after  Lely)         .  .  ...       46 

Frances  Stuart,  Duchess  of  Richmond,  as  Diana 

(after  Lely)        .  .  ...       76 

Mrs.  Jane  Middleton  .  .    (after  Lely)     no 

Mary  Bagot,  Countess  of  Falmouth  ,,        ,     122 

Elizabeth  Hamilton,  Countess  of  Gramont   ,,        '132 

Margaret  Brooke,  Lady  Denham        .  ,,        -152 

Frances  Brooke,  Lady  Whitmore        .  ,,        .168 

SusanArmine,Lady Belasyse,  AS  St. Catherine  ,,        .     172 

Elizabeth  Wriothesley,  Countess  of  Northumber- 
land (after  Lely)  .  .  .          .      184 

Henrietta   Boyle,  Countess  of   Rochester  (after 

Lely)  .  .  ...     204 

Anne  Digby,  Countess  of  Sunderland  (after  Lely)     210 

Louise  de  Keroualle,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  as 

Flora  (after  Verelst)        .  .  .         .     230 

Carey    Eraser,   Countess   of   Peterborough   (after 

Kneller)  .  .  .  .          .     274 

Frances  Whitmore,  Lady  Middleton  (after  Kneller)     282 


8  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


TO    FACE    FAGC 


Isabella  Bennet,  Duchess  of  Grafton  (after  Kneller)     284 
Diana  de  Vere,  Duchess  of  St.  Albans  „  .     294 

Margaret  Cecil,  Countess  of  Ranelagh     ,,  .     300 

Mary  Compton,  Countess  of  Dorset  .  ,,  .     304 

Mary  Bentinck,  Countess  of  Essex    .  ,,         .310 


Introduction 


The  irresponsible  gaiety — the  sacrificing  of  everything  to  the  pleasure 
of  the  moment — that  marked  the  beginning  of  the  short  period  during 
which  England  endured  the  restored  Stuarts  has  often  been  spoken 
of  as  a  mere  natural  reaction  against  the  puritanical  repression  of  the 
Commonwealth  period.  The  point  has  perhaps  been  stressed  over- 
much. It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  Court  life  of  the  Second 
Charles  was  anything  much  more  than  a  local  fever ;  it  may  be  believed 
that  the  people  as  a  whole  retained  something  of  mens  sana  in  corpore 
sano.  Samuel  Pepys  wrote  significantly  in  his  diary  in  1 668  "  the 
business  of  abusing  the  Puritans  begins  to  grow  stale  and  of  no  use, 
they  being  the  people  that,  at  last,  will  be  found  the  wisest." 
Even  when  quarter  of  a  century  of  faithlessness  and  frivolity  had 
done  its  worst  to  undermine  the  stability  of  the  nation  it  was  able 
to  make  a  quick  recovery  after  the  scuttling  of  James  the  Second, 
a  saturnine  rake  who  lacked  even  the  superficial  attractiveness  of  his 
brother. 

The  period  of  those  two  reigns,  1660  to  1688,  looms  almost  unduly 
large  in  our  history.  It  was  one  which  as  a  nation  we  may  well 
look  back  upon  without  pride  as  one  in  which  British  prestige 
reached  its  nadir ;  a  period  the  record  of  which  is  marked  by 
little  that  is  noble,  by  much  that  was  ignoble — and  the  ignoble  was 
largely  connected  with  the  Court  and  its  influence,  the  noble  was 
something  in  despite  of  it.  The  study  of  morbid  manifestations  may, 
however,  as  surely  have  its  sociological  value  when  they  appear  in 
the  body  corporate  as  pathologically  they  have  when  they  appear  in  the 
individual.  This  is  perhaps  in  part  the  reason  why  the  story  of  the 
prominent  personages  about  the  "  Merry  Monarch's  "  Court  has  some- 
thing of  perennial  attraction  for  many  readers.  It  is  a  story  full  of 
life  and  colour,  a  story  of  the  play  of  human  passions,  of  pleasure  and 
other  forms  of  self-seeking,  of  jealousy  and  intrigue  almost  without 
restraint,  and  of  the  various  causes  that  help  to  make  that  story  a  particu- 
larly vivid  one.  Contemporary  pictures,  diaries,  letters,  and  memoirs 
combine  to  make  the  years  that  followed  the  Restoration  the  earliest 
period  that  we  can  know  with  such  a  degree  of  intimacy,  as  enables  us 
at  once  to  visualize  and  realize  men  and  women  as  they  were. 

The  author  of  this  volume  has  explained  the  circumstances  in  which 
the  dual  series  of  portraits  that  have  come  to  be  known  as  the  Hampton 

9 


10  INTRODUCTION 

Court  Beauties  were  painted,  but  here  it  may  be  pointed  out  that 
modern  portrait  painting  may  in  one  sense  be  said  to  date  from  the 
days  of  Charles  the  Second.  There  had  been  other — and  greater — 
portrait  painters  before  Sir  Peter  Lely  and  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller,  but 
it  was  in  their  time  that  the  exercise  of  the  art  seems  to  have  widened 
so  that  everybody  who  was  anybody  had  to  be  "immortalized"  on  canvas 
— almost  as  inevitably  as  to-day  everybody  who  is  nobody  has  to  be  given 
the  fleeting  immortality  of  the  photograph.  To  the  fact  that  we  can  see 
them,  if  not  in  the  habit  as  they  lived,  at  least  in  the  habit  as  they 
posed,  we  owe  something  of  our  interest  in  the  varied  women  whose 
life  stories  are  here  sketched.  If  to  the  portrait  painters  we  owe  it 
that  we  can  see  what  sort  of  women  it  was  who  gave  colour  to 
Charles's  Court,  to  the  diarists,  letter  writers,  and  other  pen-and-ink 
gossipers  of  the  period  we  owe  it  that  we  can  also  learn  something  of 
their  characters — that  we  can  contrast  the  grasping  self-seeking  of 
Louise  de  Keroualle  with  the  simple  self-abandonment  of  Nell  Gwyn, 
the  gay  irresponsibility  of  "  La  Belle  Stuart  "  with  the  dignified 
purity  of  "  La  Belle  Hamilton."  Thanks  to  these  writers,  as  has 
been  said,  the  closing  decades  of  the  seventeenth  century  are  made  more 
intimately  real  to  us  than  any  earlier  period — what  would  we  not  give 
for  the  diaries  of  some  Samuel  Pepys  and  John  Evelyn  of  the  reigns 
of  James  the  First  and  his  predecessors  ?  If  to  full  diaries  we  owe 
something  of  our  knowledge  of  the  time  in  which  these  "Beauties" 
lived,  they  and  their  lives  may  be  regarded  as  not  having  been  without 
an  indirect  influence  upon  literature,  for  we  seem  in  the  satires  of  Pope 
to  get  an  expression  of  the  reaction  against  the  earlier  looseness  of  all 
moral  ties — though  his  time  had  by  no  means  become  strait-laced  ! 

Pope  may,  indeed,  be  regarded  as  having  summed  up  several  of  the 
Court  ladies  in  his  essay  concerning  "  the  Characters  of  Women,"  and  we 
may  find  many  of  them  whom  the  whimsical  contrarieties  of  "Narcissa" 
would  fit : 

"  Narcissa's  nature,  tolerably  mild, 
To  make  a  wash,  would  hardly  stew  a  child  ; 
Has  ev'n  been  proved  to  grant  a  Lover's  prayer, 
And  paid  a  Tradesman  once  to  make  him  stare  ; 
Gave  Alms  at  Easter,  in  a  Christian  trim, 
And  made  a  Widow  happy,  for  a  whim. 
Why  then  declare  Good-nature  is  her  scorn, 
When  'tis  alone  by  that  she  can  be  borne  ? 
Why  pique  all  mortals,  yet  affect  a  name  ? 
A  fool  to  Pleasure,  yet  a  slave  to  Fame  : 
Now  deep  in  Taylor  and  the  Book  of  Martyrs, 
Now  drinking  Citron  with  his  Grace  and  Chartreg  : 
Now  Conscience  chills  her,  and  now  Passion  burns  ; 
And  Atheism  and  Religion  take  their  turns  ; 
A  very  Heathen  in  the  carnal  part, 
Yet  still  a  sad,  good  Christian  at  her  heart." 

Walter  Jerrold 


PART   I 

SIR   PETER  LELY 


LELY 

"  Not  as  of  old,  when  a  rough  hand  did  speak 
A  strong  aspect,  and  a  fair  face,  a  weak  ; 
When  only  a  black  beard  cried  villain,  and 
By  Hieroglyphicks  we  could  understand  ; 
When  crystal  typified  in  a  white  spot. 
And  the  bright  ruby  was  but  one  red  blot ; 
Thou  dost  the  thing  orientally  the  same 
Not  only  paintst  its  colour,  but  its  flame  ; 
Thou  sorrow  canst  design  without  a  tear. 
And  with  the  man  his  very  hope  or  fear  ; 
So  that  th'  amazed  world  shall  henceforth  find 
None  but  my  Lely  ever  drew  a  mind." 

Richard  Lovelace. 


THE  FAIR  LADIES  OF 
HAMPTON  COURT 

CHAPTER   I 
THE  MATCHLESS   BEAUTIES 

"  Oh,  Kneller !  like  thy  pictures  were  my  song, 
Clear  like  thy  paint,  and  like  thy  pencil  strong, 
The  Matchless  Beauties  should  recorded  be, 
Immortal  in  my  verse,  as  in  thy  gallery." 

Lord  Lansdowne. 

About  one  hundred,  and  fifty  years  ago  two  sisters, 
renowned  for  their  beauty,  EHzabeth  and  Maria 
Gunning,  went  to  see  Hampton  Court.  The  dozen 
pictures,  known  at  that  time  as  "  The  Hampton  Court 
Beauties,"  were  then  without  rivals  in  the  building, 
and  all  visitors  made  a  point  of  seeing  them,  being 
conducted  by  the  housekeeper,  who — another  instance 
of  the  shameless  way  in  which  modern  woman  has 
stolen  the  work  of  the  stronger  sex — was  always, 
at  that  period,  a  man.  As  the  housekeeper  was 
deferentially  guiding  the  fair  Gunnings  through 
the  rooms,  he  saw  a  number  of  sightseers  in  the 
doorway,  and,  wishing  to  combine  the  two  parties, 
called  out  : 

"  This  way,  ladies ;   this  way  to  the  Beauties !  " 

13 


14      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

The  Gunning  sisters  started  as  though  a  bomb  had 
burst  before  them  ;  their  faces  crimsoned,  their  eyes 
flashed,  and,  turning  simultaneously  upon  the  man, 
they  cried  in  voices  shaking  with  anger  : 

"  How  dare  you  insult  us  like  this  ?  Are  we 
never  to  be  at  ease,  or  to  see  a  public  place  with- 
out being  mobbed  and  persecuted  ?  We  came  here 
to  see  the  pictures,  not  to  be  made  a  show  to  the 
crowd  !  " 

We  are  told  that  they  stormed  and  raved  to  the 
wondering  horror  of  the  innocent  housekeeper,  and 
to  the  week-long  joy  of  their  laughing  friends.  It  is 
a  pity  that  their  portraits  are  not  also  at  Hampton 
Court,  that  we  might  compare  yet  another  generation 
of  loveliness  with  those  which  now  hang  on  the  walls 
of  the  great  rooms. 

It  was  Mary  of  Orange  who,  fired  by  the  example 
of  her  mother  in  regard  to  Sir  Peter  Lely,  determined, 
while  King  William  was  on  one  of  his  long  absences,  to 
commission  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  to  paint  the  pictures 
of  the  most  beautiful  ladies  of  her  Court,  and  it  is  said 
that  this  action  contributed  to  make  her  very  un- 
popular. Lady  Dorchester  advised  her  against  it  with 
the  argument  : 

"  Madam,  if  the  King  were  to  ask  for  the  portraits 
of  all  the  wits  of  his  Court,  would  not  the  rest  think 
he  called  them  fools  ?  " 

The  Queen,  however,  would  not  be  dissuaded,  and 
ordered  twelve  portraits  to  be  painted  of  the  best- 
looking  ladies  who  either  attended  upon  her  or  were 
frequently  in  her  retinue,  Kneller  being  knighted  for 
his  performance,  receiving  a  medal  and  a  chain  worth 
£300.    These  portraits  were  first  hung  in  the  Water 


Princess  Makv,  later  Queen  of  England,  as  Diana 
{_After  Lely) 


fxO    FACE    I'AGE    14 


THE  MATCHLESS    BEAUTIES  15 

Gallery,  for  at  that  time  the  King's  and  Queen's 
Apartments  round  the  Fountain  Court  were  being 
rebuilt,  and  Mary  had  her  residence  in  the  Water 
Gallery,  a  building  close  upon  the  river.  The  portraits 
remained  there  after  the  Queen's  death,  until,  the 
new  palace  being  completed,  that  gallery  was  pulled 
down,  as  it  obstructed  the  view  of  the  river.  The 
pictures  were  then  put  in  a  room  directly  under  the 
King's  Guard  Chamber,  which  was  thenceforth  called 
the  Beauty  Room,  and  is  now  known  as  the  Oak  Room. 
When  in  1850  various  alterations  were  made  in  the 
arrangements  of  this  palace  with  its  thousand  apart- 
ments, Kneller's  pictures  w^ere  finally  hung  in  King 
William's  Presence  Chamber. 

Only  nine  of  the  twelve  portraits  are  now  at  the 
Court,  and  these  are  all  full-length  figures  in  long, 
dignified  robes,  placed  high  upon  the  dark  oak  walls 
in  not  too  good  a  light.  They  are  perhaps  somewhat 
neglected  by  the  pubHc,  being  put  into  the  shade  by 
those  other  Beauties  brought  from  Windsor  Castle  a 
century  ago,  the  fair,  frail  beauties  of  the  Restoration. 
In  early  days  these  latter  were  known  as  the  Windsor 
Beauties,  but  how  can  such  a  distinction  be  carried 
on  through  the  years  ?  Ninety-nine  people  out  of  a 
hundred  in  speaking  of  the  Hampton  Court  Beauties 
think  chiefly  of  the  women  of  the  Court  of  Charles  II, 
who  gaze  sleepily  from  their  bright  canvases,  holding 
some  flowing  and  impossible  clothing  to  their  bared 
breasts,  often  against  a  background  of  woodland  and 
stream. 

There  seems  to  have  been  no  disapprobation  ex- 
pressed when  Anne  Hyde,  the  Duchess  of  York,  com- 
missioned  Lely   to   paint    the   pictures   of    the   fair 


1 6     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

dames  who  helped  to  make  Charles's  Court  something 
more  than  merely  gay  ;  and  it  is  quite  likely  that 
James  had  as  much  to  do  with  the  choice  o£  subjects 
as  his  wife,  while  Charles  had  more  to  do  with  it 
than  either.  When  it  came  to  the  painting  it  was 
a  foregone  conclusion  that  Lady  Castlemaine  would 
stand  first,  and  indeed  Lely  painted  her  portrait 
many  times.  To  mention  her  is  to  think  of  the 
pretty,  childish,  elusive  Frances  Stuart,  whose  virtue 
has  been  as  much  discussed  as  that  of  Lady  Blessington, 
though  with  perhaps  a  somewhat  clearer  result.  The 
beautiful,  high-spirited  Elizabeth  Hamilton  must  have 
been  painted  early  in  the  list,  for  she  went  from  the 
Court  before  many  years  had  passed  over  it.  Nell 
Gwyn,  the  single-hearted,  was  limned  by  Lely  more 
than  once,  but  unfortunately  Hampton  Court  Palace 
does  not  possess  a  single  picture  of  the  woman 
who,  content  with  a  comparatively  modest  in- 
come, demanded  no  honours  for  herself  from  her 
King. 

Lely's  pictures  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  are 
not  here,  though  there  is  one  by  a  Dutch  painter 
named  Verelst,  which  was  brought  from  Kensington, 
showing  her  in  a  red  robe  as  Flora.  That  Lady 
Belasyse  should  have  shared  in  the  honour  would  have 
been  anything  but  pleasing  to  the  Duchess  if  she 
could  have  foreseen  a  little  beyond  her  own  death  ; 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  would  willingly 
have  forbidden  the  inclusion  in  her  gallery  of  the 
fair  IVIargaret  Brooke,  who  married  Lord  Denham, 
and  whose  early  death  caused  such  widespread  scandal. 
Anne's  own  portrait  is  not  the  least  interesting  of  the 
group,  for  she  was  very  typical  of  the  women  of  her 


THE  MATCHLESS  BEAUTIES  17 

day — the  women  who  seem  to  have  shared  equally 
with  the  men  in  the  terrible  reaction  against  Puritan- 
ism ;  but  this  portrait  has  never  been  engraved  and 
thus  cannot  be  included. 

There  were  those  who  would  attribute  the  worst  of 
Charles's  faults  to  the  ladies  of  his  Court.  Bishop 
Burnet  says  that  the  King  was  debauched  by  his  mis- 
tresses, an  absurd  statement,  seeing  that  in  character 
Charles  was  wilful,  vain,  idle,  and  pleasure-loving. 
Before  the  Restoration  a  thoughtful  Englishman  re- 
marked that  if  Charles  were  invited  to  wear  the  crown 
it  would  mean  that  the  government  of  the  kingdom 
would  be  given  over  to  courtesans  and  sycophants — 
his  language  was  of  a  simpler,  coarser  kind.  "  What 
shall  we  do  with  such  a  King  ?  "  asked  another.  "  In 
Brussels  he  dances  night  and  day  ;  he  does  nothing 
but  dance  and  hunt."  And,  indeed,  when  Charles  was 
penniless  his  trouble  was,  not  that  he  could  not  feed 
the  people  who  clustered  round  him,  but  that  he  could 
not  pay  a  fiddler  for  the  dance.  That  was  Charles  to 
the  day  of  his  death  !  He  flung  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  pounds  away  upon  the  dance  of  life,  and 
starved  the  servants  in  his  kitchen.  The  very  figure 
of  the  dance  showed  his  character  ;  to  bow,  to  ad- 
vance and  retire ;  to  set  to  this  partner  and  to  that ; 
to  pursue,  to  embrace — it  was  the  beginning  and 
ending  of  life  for  him,  and  generally  it  mattered  little 
who  was  his  partner,  for  to  such  a  universal  lover  every 
pretty  face  was  welcome. 

Yet  to  a  great  extent  Charles  was  moulded  by  his 
times.  He  had  many  of  his  father's  characteristics — 
that  father  for  whom  he  had  felt  both  admiration 
and  affection  ;  he  had  narrowly  escaped  from  his  own 


1 8     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

country  and  had  been  obliged  to  live  hardly  in  France, 
in  Coblentz,  in  Holland  ;  in  proportion  as  he  had 
suffered  he  hated  the  Puritans,  whom  he  regarded  as 
the  cause  of  his  suffering  ;  and  in  that  hatred  he 
included  all  their  ways  and  customs.  There  were 
many  to  encourage  him  in  his  resentment,  for  Royalists 
had  been  obliged  to  send  their  boys  abroad  for  safety 
and  education,  causing  them  to  imbibe  the  thoughts 
and  habits  of  the  French.  In  Paris  they  were  con- 
firmed in  their  papistry  and  encouraged  in  their  scorn 
of  the  Roundheads.  They  also  learned  many  other 
things  which  had  no  place  in  the  Court  of  Charles  I, 
who  at  least  lived  a  pure  domestic  life  ;  and  when  at 
last  the  chance  came,  they  brought  to  England  all 
their  French  accomplishments,  with  which  to  enliven 
and  pollute  the  nation. 

The  Restoration  was  a  wild  carnival  played  out 
by  a  delirious  people  and  an  irresponsible  King.  For 
fifteen  years  Charles  had  lived  from  hand  to  mouth, 
upon  a  dole  from  France,  gifts  from  his  family  and 
people,  and  loans  from  others.  His  purse,  his  mistress, 
and  his  dance  were  the  only  things  that  had  filled  his 
mind.  Occasionally  when  abroad  he  had  been  obliged 
to  walk  circumspectly  because  the  people  of  the  town 
in  which  he  resided  hated  his  ways,  his  wild  life,  his 
profanation  of  the  Sabbath,  and  his  followers ;  but 
England  was  his  own  as  soon  as  he  set  foot  upon  its 
shores,  and  though  he  had  made  many  good  resolutions 
they  scarcely  survived  the  journey  to  London. 

What  could  such  a  man  make  of  the  art  of  govern- 
ment, and  what  could  the  crown  mean  to  such  a  mind 
but  greater  opportunity  for  licence  ?  There  is  no 
doubt  that  Charles  meant  to  be  a  good  king  ;   he  was 


THE  MATCHLESS  BEAUTIES  19 

kind-hearted  and  generous,  and  he  intended  at  first 
to  show  gratitude  to  his  friends,  but  these  sentiments 
could  not  outlive  the  desire  of  the  moment ;  they 
evaporated,  and  all  that  was  left  was  a  determination 
to  amuse  himself  and  to  be  revenged  on  his  old 
enemies.  He  was  always  poor,  while  those  around 
him  grew  rich  ;  he  could  no  more  resist  a  personal 
request  for  money  than  he  could  willingly  pay  a  debt  ; 
he  would  allow  a  rapacious  woman  to  take  thousands 
from  him,  to  sell  places,  to  rob  the  country's  exchequer, 
while  he  himself  went  about  without  a  coin  in  his 
pocket.  On  one  occasion  he  and  his  brother,  with 
some  of  their  friends,  spent  the  greater  part  of  the 
night  in  a  hostel  drinking  and  card-playing,  but  mostly 
drinking ;  and  when  they  would  have  gone  away 
they  could  not  among  them  muster  enough  money 
to  pay  the  reckoning.  Consulting  as  to  what  they 
should  do,  the  King's  eyes  fell  upon  one  of  his  com- 
panions, Tom  Sheridan,  who  was  helplessly  drunk  ; 
so  they  all  slipped  away,  telling  their  host  that  the 
gentleman  left  behind  would  pay — which  Sheridan 
had  to  do  in  the  morning  ! 

Colley  Cibber  tells  a  story  illustrating  Charles's 
usual  state  of  poverty.  Nell  Gwyn  gave  a  concert 
of  music  in  her  private  lodgings,  at  which  the  King 
and  the  Duke  of  York  were  present,  also  one  or  two 
others  who  were  generally  admitted  to  these  little 
parties.  When  the  performance  was  over  the  King 
expressed  himself  as  being  highly  pleased,  and  gave 
the  musicians  extraordinary  commendation. 

"  Then,  Sir,"  said  the  lady,  "  to  show  you  don't 
speak  like  a  courtier,  I  hope  you  will  make  them  a 
handsome  present." 


20     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

The  King  said  he  had  no  money  about  him  and 
asked  the  Duke  if  he  had  any,  to  which  James  repHed  : 
"  I  behevc,  Sir,  I  have  only  a  guinea  or  two." 
Upon   which   Nell,   laughing   and   turning   to  the 
people  about  her,  cried  : 

"  Od's  fish  !  what  company  am  I  got  into  ?  " 
Poor  obstinate  James  seems  to  have  been  more 
objectionable  than  his  brother  in  his  amours.  Charles 
frankly  fell  in  love — of  sorts — while  James  followed 
intrigue  because  he  felt  it  to  be  the  thing  to  do.  We 
never  hear  of  his  being  unhappy  because  a  beauty 
would  not  smile  upon  him,  or  of  enduring  the  tempers 
and  threats  of  a  light  woman  whom  he  loved  too 
much  to  dismiss.  He  was  cold  and  selfish  at  heart, 
but  he  belonged  to  his  time  and  felt  that  he 
would  be  out  of  fashion  if  he  did  not  show  to  his 
gentlemen  an  example  of  princely  luxury  and  aban- 
donment. 

When  William  III  sat  upon  the  throne  and  bullied 
his  wife,  and  when  his  meek  spouse  Mary  determined 
to  have  her  ladies  painted,  she  was  at  least  saved  the 
indignity  of  causing  the  faces  of  the  women  who 
made  her  most  unhappy  to  live  for  all  time.  In  her 
gallery  the  depraved  Villiers  sisters  do  not  appear,  nor 
is  there  a  single  lady  in  whom  the  King  showed  an 
interest  too  great  for  her  soul's  health.  Indeed, 
though  William  was  by  no  means  impeccable,  he 
was  so  far  restrained  that  the  lampooners  of  his 
day  had  nothing  to  say  about  his  amorous  sins. 
They  crystallized  the  character  of  the  Court  in  very 
different  sentiments. 

"  There's  Mary  the  daughter,  there's  Willie  the  cheater, 
There's  Geordie  the  drinker,  there's  Annie  the  eater," 


THE  MATCHLESS  BEAUTIES  21 

is  an  example  of  the  wit  of  the  day,  while  an- 
other verse  might  have  served  for  the  original  of 
Jack  Sprat  : 

"  Man  and  wife  are  all  one,  in  flesh  and  in  bone, 
From  hence  you  may  guess  what  they  mean. 
The  Queen  drinks  chocolat  to  make  the  King  fat. 
The  King  hunts  to  make  the  Queen  lean." 

Thus  the  gossips  were  concerned  rather  with  the 
faults  which  affected  principally  the  Royal  pair  both 
in  their  exercise  and  results  than  with  those  vices 
which  acted  widely  upon  all  around  them,  so  the 
names  of  the  Beauties  of  Hampton  Court  will 
perhaps  raise  more  curiosity  than  interest,  for, 
indeed,  they  have  been  treated  with  too  much  in- 
difference to  be  quite  pleasant  to  one  who  would 
now  seek  to  piece  together  their  stories. 

Who  is  Miss  Pitt  ?  What  Mr.  Scrope  did  she 
marry  ?  Diarists,  satirists,  memoirists,  historians, 
lampooners,  all  are  silent.  Not  one  has  written  her 
nam.e,  not  one  has  praised  or  slighted  her.  Even  the 
omniscient  Burke  ignores  her,  and  yet  if  she  were  about 
the  Queen's  person  she  must  have  belonged  to  a  family 
which  is  chronicled  in  his  pages.  There  was  a  Mary 
Scrope  who  married  John  Pitt,  great-uncle  to  the 
great  William  of  eighteenth  -  century  fame,  who 
must  have  lived  in  the  time  of  William  and  Mary. 
Can  it  be  possible  that  a  mistake  was  made  in  the 
labelling  of  the  picture  which  used  to  be  designated 
Mrs.  Pitt,  afterwards  Mrs.  Scrope  ?  At  that  time 
Miss  was  regarded  as  an  infamous  title,  and  all  the 
maids  of  honour  were  spoken  of  as  "  Mrs."  Perhaps 
it  should  in  reality  have  been  Miss  Scrape,  afterwards 
Mrs.  Pitt  ;   for  there  have  been  many  mistakes  made 


22      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

over  these  pictures.  Lady  Belasyse,  for  example, 
was  long  known  as  Lady  Byron  ;  Lady  Falmouth  was 
labelled  Lady  Orrery  ;  and  Frances  Brooke  has  been 
mistaken  for  Lady  Southesk ;  while  Margaret  Brooke 
is  called  to  this  day  Elizabeth  Brooke — so  it  may  well 
be  that  there  was  some  transposition  of  the  names  of 
Scrope  and  Pitt. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  Miss  Pitt  may  have  been 
Dorothy,  sister  to  the  old  adventurous  Thomas  Pitt, 
the  Governor  of  Fort  St.  George,  the  "  Diamond  " 
Pitt  who  ought  to  have  made  a  huge  fortune  over 
the  buying  and  selling  of  the  great  stone  known  as 
the  Regent  Diamond,  but  who  never  received  more 
than  the  first  instalment  of  his  price.  Whoever  she 
was,  sweet,  youthful  Miss  or  Mrs.  Pitt,  in  her  pink 
dress,  posed  in  Kneller's  conventional  fashion  with 
arm  outstretched,  must  go  undescribed,  and  so  she 
has  the  first  place  in  this  book,  for  she  alone  of  the 
Beauties  remains  a  mystery.  There  may  be  some  one 
possessing  the  secret  of  her  identity,  but  for  my  pur- 
pose the  secret  has  proved  elusive. 

A  word  as  to  the  painters.  Sir  Peter  Lely  was 
most  certainly  the  best  painter  of  his  time,  a  state- 
ment which  a  comparison  of  the  pictures  to-day 
proves.  His  colours  are  still  bright,  while  those  of 
Kneller  have  toned  into  dullness ;  his  faces  are  ex- 
pressive, we  may  call  them  sleepy,  or  find  an  unusual 
resemblance  among  them,  yet  they  give  the  idea  of 
life  and  animation  ;  his  backgrounds  are  beautiful,  and 
he  had  the  daring  to  throw  draperies  around  his 
figures  which  fitted  in  with  his  conception  of  the 
picture  as  a  whole  rather  than  hung  as  useful  clothes 


THE  MATCHLESS  BEAUTIES  23 

upon  the  fair  dame — "  a  night-gown  fastened  with  a 
single  pin,"  to  quote  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu  : 
only  it  is  necessary  to  remember  that  night-gown  in 
Charles's  days  meant  what  we  now  call  evening  dress ; 
a  night-rail  was  the  sleeping  garment.  As  Horace 
Walpole  says  :  "  Lely's  women  are  certainly  much 
handsomer  than  those  of  Vandyck.  They  please  as 
much  more  as  they  are  evidently  meant  to  please.  .  .  . 
I  don't  know  whether  even  in  softness  of  the  flesh 
he  did  not  exceed  his  predecessor.  The  beauties  at 
Windsor  are  the  Court  of  Paphos,  and  ought  to  be 
engraved  for  the  memoirs  of  its  charming  historio- 
grapher, Count  Hamilton  "  (who  wrote  the  Memoirs 
of  Count  Gramont). 

Lely  sometimes  copied,  or  had  copied,  his  own 
pictures,  altering  only  the  face  to  make  it  suit  another 
person.  Lady  Southesk  at  Narbonne  and  Frances 
Brooke  at  Hampton  Court  are  examples  of  this ;  also 
Ann  Kellaway,  a  plain  woman  of  mature  age,  is  some- 
times erroneously  dubbed  Princess  Mary,  though  the 
latter  picture  is  of  a  slight  pretty  child  of  about 
fourteen,  which  has  caused  some  curious  mistakes 
among  those  writing  about  the  pictures. 

As  for  origin ;  Lely  ought  to  have  been  named 
Vander  Vaas,  but  his  father,  being  born  at  the  Hague 
in  a  perfumer's  shop  known  as  The  Lily,  was  generally 
called  Captain  du  Lys,  and  he  gave  his  son  the  name, 
which  in  England  was  variously  spelled  Lily,  Lillie, 
Lely,  and  probably  in  other  w-ays.  He  came  to 
England  in  1641  or  1643,  and  painted  innumerable 
portraits  until  1680,  when  he  died  suddenly  of  apo- 
plexy. He  was  extremely  vain  and  very  luxurious. 
Pepys  tells  of  visiting  him  and   noting  the  wonder- 


24      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

ful  state  in  which  the  painter's  dinner-table  was 
laid. 

Sir  Godfrey  Kneller's  fame  did  not  arise  in  England 
until  after  1670,  but  he  had  plenty  of  time  in  which 
to  awaken  the  jealousy  of  Lely,  and  in  which  to  do 
much  work  that  the  older  painter  regarded  as  legiti- 
mately his.  However,  there  was  such  a  passion  for 
portraits  at  that  time  that  there  was  more  than  room 
for  both  of  them,  and  Lely  was  noble  enough  to  extol 
the  abilities  of  his  rival.  Kneller  was  knighted  by 
William  in  1692  as  a  reward  for  his  pictures  of  the 
Beauties,  though  it  is  not  certain  that  he  had  actually 
finished  all  the  portraits  by  that  date. 

He  was  precise  as  to  style,  careless  as  to  work, 
avaricious  for  money.  The  fashion  of  head-dress  in 
his  day  took  the  form  of  an  extraordinary  three- 
story  erection  of  lace  rising  straight  up  from  the 
head,  with  ends  falling  on  each  side  to  rest  on  the 
shoulders.  Kneller  induced  his  sitters  to  discard  these 
atrocities  and  painted  their  faces  surrounded  with 
something  more  natural  as  an  adornment.  He  pre- 
ferred interiors  to  the  woodland  background,  and 
clothed  his  ladies  in  long,  decorous,  stately  robes. 
He  worked  with  extraordinary  rapidity,  and  was 
sometimes  so  hurried  that  he  would  occasionally 
leave  a  corner  of  his  canvas  entirely  untouched, 
a  carelessness  which  was  assiduously  copied  by  his 
pupils. 

If  Lely  was  vain,  there  seems  to  be  no  word  ade- 
quate to  describe  Kneller's  high  appreciation  of  him- 
self, but  he  may  be  forgiven  it  for  the  wit  which  he 
possessed.  He  was  also  the  easiest  person  in  the  world 
to  flatter,   so  easy  that  it  is  said  Pope  once  laid  a 


THE  MATCHLESS  BEAUTIES  25 

wager  that  there  was  no  flattery  so  gross  that  Knellcr 
would  not  accept  it.  To  prove  it  he  remarked  one 
day  : 

"  Sir  Godfrey,  I  beheve  if  God  Almighty  had 
had  your  assistance  the  world  would  have  been 
made  more  perfect." 

To  which  Kneller  replied  emphatically  : 

"  'Fore  God,  sir,  I  believe  so." 

One  day  Kneller  heard  a  man  cursing  himself  and 
said  : 

"  God  damn  you  P  God  may  damn  the  Duke  of 
Marlborough,  and  perhaps  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller  ;  but 
do  you  think  he  will  take  the  trouble  of  damning  such 
a  scoundrel  as  you  ?  " 

He  allowed  his  neighbour,  Dr.  Ratcliffe,  to  make  a 
door  in  his  garden  which  divided  the  two  houses,  but 
when  he  found  that  Ratcliffe's  servants  destroyed  his 
flowers,  he  sent  word  to  the  doctor  that  the  door 
must  be  fastened  up.  "  Tell  him  he  may  do  any- 
thing with  it  but  paint  it,"  was  the  snappy  answer ; 
to  which  Kneller  sent  the  reply  :  "  And  I  can  take 
anything  from  him  but  physic."  A  tailor  who  once 
asked  him  to  train  his  son  as  an  artist  received 
the  reply  :  "  Dost  thou  think,  man,  I  can  make  thy 
son  a  painter  ?  No !  God  Almighty  only  makes 
painters." 

Kneller  amassed  a  great  fortune  and  died  in 
1723,  being  buried  at  Whitton,  in  Middlesex,  though 
a  monument  was  raised  to  him  in  Westminster 
Abbey. 

Verelst,  whose  portrait  of  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth hangs  in  the  Beauty  Room,  was  a  Dutch  painter 
of  flowers,  egged  on  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  to 


26      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

become  a  portrait  painter.  His  first  attempts  in  that 
direction  were  so  crowded  with  flowers  that  the  real 
subject  of  the  picture  could  scarcely  be  seen  ;  how- 
ever, he  became  popular  in  time,  and  helped  to  send 
Lely  into  retirement  at  Kew. 


CHAPTER  II 
ANNE    HYDE,   DUCHESS   OF    YORK 

"  A  Prince  like  a  pear,  which  rotten  at  core  is, 
With  a  court  that  takes  millions,  and  yet  as  Job  poor  is." 

Old  Song. 

Anne  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York,  has  never  been  popu- 
lar or  remarkable  among  historical  characters.  The 
fact  that  she  was  not  of  royal  blood  has  probably 
been  sufficient  to  decrease  her  importance,  and  the 
further  fact  that  she  showed  no  interest  in  political 
intrigue,  and  was  content  with  ordering  her  own  house, 
has  put  her  among  those  princesses  of  whom  we  know 
little  more  than  the  name.  Her  picture,  however, 
hangs  among  the  Beauties  of  Charles's  Court, 
for  she  was  painted  many  times  by  various  artists, 
and  as  she  gave  the  master  portrait-painter  his  com- 
mission to  produce  for  her  a  series  of  the  handsomest 
women  about  the  Court,  it  is  but  fitting  that  she 
should  stand  first  in  this  history  of  the  originals  of 
those  pictures. 

Anne  was  the  daughter  of  Edward  Hyde,  a  com- 
moner of  good  family,  who  was  called  to  the  Bar  in 
1633,  and  who,  all  through  the  Civil  War,  did  his 
utmost  to  induce  his  sovereign  to  follow  a  strictly 
legal  course  in  his  quarrels  with  Parliament.  This 
advice  was  often  diametrically  opposed  to  that  of  the 

27 


28      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Queen,  for  which  reason  Henrietta  Maria  soon  took  a 
violent  disHke  to  him,  a  disHke  which  later  she  felt 
just  as  keenly  for  his  daughter.  Hyde  was  knighted 
in  1643  and  appointed  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer. 
During  the  exile  of  the  young  Charles  he  was  his  chief 
adviser,  being  always  anxious  not  only  to  see  him 
crowned  as  king,  but  to  save  monarchy  in  England. 
His  constant  advice  was,  "  Have  a  little  patience !  " 
for  restoration  without  bloodshed  was  his  aim  ;  an 
advice  and  aim  which  were  both  fully  justified. 
On  the  return  of  Charles  to  England  Hyde  was  made 
Baron  Hyde  of  Hindon,  and  at  the  coronation  he 
became  Viscount  Cornbury  and  Earl  of  Clarendon. 

Anne,  who  was  born  in  1637,  was  his  eldest  daughter, 
and  she,  with  all  the  family,  fled  to  Antwerp  in  1649. 
Four  years  later  the  Princess  Royal  of  England,  the 
Princess  of  Orange,  gave  the  Hydes  a  residence  at 
Breda,  and  in  a  few  months  made  Anne  one  of  her 
maids  of  honour,  thus  much  annoying  Queen  Henrietta 
Maria  and  drawing  a  very  reluctant  consent  from 
Edward  Hyde.  The  appointment,  however,  gave 
great  pleasure  to  the  lively  Queen  of  Bohemia,  aunt 
to  the  Princess,  who  openly  wrote  and  spoke  of  Anne 
as  her  favourite.  "  Tell  Mr.  Chancellor  his  lady  and 
my  favourite  came  hither  Saturday  and  are  gone  this 
day  to  Teyling  [the  Princess's  country  house].  I 
find  my  favourite  from  every  way  to  her  advantage." 
She  also  says  how  very  fit  she  thinks  Anne  is  to  fill  the 
post  of  maid  of  honour.  While  at  Teyling  Anne  was 
present  at  a  fancy  ball  in  the  character  of  a  shepherdess, 
and  in  her  soft  girlishness  of  sweet  seventeen  looked 
very  pretty,  the  general  opinion  being  that,  excepting 
the  Princess,  she  was  the  handsomest  woman  present. 


HI 

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Anne  Hyde,  Duchess  of  York 

{After  Lelv) 


[to  face   page  28 


ANNE    HYDE,    DUCHESS    OF   YORK     29 

At  this  time  Miss  Hyde,  or,  as  the  custom  of  the 
day  was,  Mrs.  Hyde,  had  many  admirers.  Charles 
himself  paid  her  attention,  though  it  never  entered  his 
head  that  she  could  become  a  member  of  his  family. 
She  was  the  prettiest  and  liveliest  girl  in  the  Princess's 
household,  and  every  man  acknowledged  the  fact. 
Sir  Spencer  Compton  was  passionately  in  love  with 
her,  so  much  so  that  it  was  the  gossip  of  the  whole 
circle.  This  young  man  was  the  son  of  the  Earl  of 
Northampton,  and  was  said  to  be  of  so  brave  a  nature 
that  when  only  a  child,  incapable  of  grasping  a  pistol, 
he  cried  with  indignation  that  he  was  not  allowed 
to  share  in  his  brother's  dangers.  Charles  and  others 
were  discussing  his  affection  for  Anne  one  day  when 
Charles  said  : 

"  Well,  I  will  see  whether  Sir  Spencer  is  so  much 
in  love  as  you  say  ;  I  will  speak  of  Mrs.  Hyde  before 
him  as  if  by  chance,  and  unless  he  be  very  much 
smitten  he  will  not  be  at  all  moved  by  it." 

Charles  Berkeley,  later  Lord  Falmouth  and  husband 
of  another  Beauty,  the  terrible  little  Henry  Jermyn, 
the  Earl  of  Arran,  Talbot,  and  Thomas  Killigrew,  all 
flitted  around  her,  ready  enough  to  pass  some  time 
of  their  exile  in  flirting  with  the  Chancellor's  daughter. 
It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  these  were  especially 
bad  men,  or  whether  the  standard  of  morals  and 
honour  was  so  extremely  low  that  bad  actions  seemed 
good  to  them,  or  vvhether,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
considered  that  any  means  justified  the  end  ;  but 
a  few  years  later  these  five  men  did  their  utmost  to 
ruin  Anne,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  as  though  their 
plot  would  succeed. 

Early   in    1656   Anne  went   with   the   Princess   of 


30     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Orange  to  visit  Henrietta  Maria  in  Paris,  and  there 
she  met  the  Duke  of  York,  who  was  then  twenty- two 
and  "  full  of  reputation  and  honour  "  from  the  two 
campaigns  he  had  served  in  against  the  Spaniards. 
It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  young  people  fell  in  love 
with  each  other  at  that  time,  but  if  so  they  had  to 
separate  when  the  visit  ended,  and  they  did  not  again 
meet  for  a  long  while.  On  hearing  of  the  death  of 
Oliver  Cromwell,  James  withdrew  from  the  army 
and  went  to  Brussels  and  Breda  to  be  near  Charles, 
and  at  the  latter  place  he  again  met  Anne.  It  was  in 
November,  1659,  that  he  entered  into  some  sort  of 
contract  with  her,  which,  while  not  really  a  marriage, 
at  least  gave  James,  in  his  own  opinion,  all  the  rights 
of  marriage.  Gramont  says  that  this  marriage  "  was 
deficient  in  none  of  those  circumstances  which  render 
contracts  of  this  nature  valid  in  the  eye  of  Heaven  : 
the  mutual  inclination,  the  formal  ceremony,  wit- 
nesses, and  every  essential  point  of  matrimony  had 
been  observed." 

The  Duke  was  very  much  in  love,  and  at  first  had 
no  thought  of  repentance,  so  that  it  may  be  certain 
that  for  six  months  at  least  Anne  was  perfectly  happy, 
a  state  of  blessedness  which  probably  she  never  again 
reached.  For  in  May,  1660,  James  accompanied  Charles 
back  to  England,  and  both  were  surrounded  with  the 
glory  and  power  which  a  crown  can  confer.  Then 
came  the  time  for  repentance.  The  love  of  such  men 
as  Charles  and  his  brother  was  not  exactly  an  exalted 
sentiment,  and  it  often  died  when  novelty  had  gone. 
So  James  reflected  that  he  stood  very  near  the  throne  ; 
and  as  he  looked  upon  the  women  who  came  to 
Court,  he  saw  that  if  it  were  true  that  he  had  married 


ANNE   HYDE,    DUCHESS    OF   YORK      31 

the  handsomest  woman  at  Breda,  there  were  many 
handsomer  still  to  be  found  in  London.  From  that 
it  was  a  short  step  to  doubting  whether  he  was  married 
at  all. 

He  thought  with  horror  o£  confessing  his  act  to 
Charles,  who  had  already  on  more  than  one  occasion 
shown  him  how  strongly  he  could  resent  any  action  of 
which  he  disapproved ;  he  pictured  a  sort  of  universal 
indignation  when  he  made  his  news  public,  and  at  last 
he  virtuously  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  contract 
was  an  infringement  of  the  duty  and  obedience  he 
owed  the  King.  But  for  one  circumstance  he  might 
have  found  in  these  arguments  a  sufficient  reason  for 
repudiating  his  agreement  with  Anne,  and  that  circum- 
stance was  that  she  was  expecting  soon  to  become  a 
mother.  She  used  all  the  entreaties  that  any  other 
woman  would  have  used  to  keep  him  faithful  to  her, 
and  James  was  torn  between  his  desire  to  be  free  and 
his  desire  not  to  be  brutal  to  a  girl  whom  he  had  a  few 
months  earlier  bound  to  him  by  most  solemn  promises. 
Pepys,  who  was  the  most  accomplished  gossip  London 
ever  produced,  and  who  always  either  heard  more  than 
other  chroniclers  or  invented  a  little  to  embellish  his 
tale,  says  that  Anne  affirmed  "  that  for  certain 
James  did  promise  her  marriage  and  had  signed  it  with 
his  blood,  but  that  he  by  stealth  had  got  the  paper 
out  of  her  cabinet." 

His  mind  veering  this  way  and  that,  James  at 
last  consulted  with  his  friends  as  to  what  course  he 
should  pursue.  The  first  person  he  went  to  was  Sir 
Charles  Berkeley,  who  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  there 
being  anything  binding  in  the  contract  of  marriage, 
saying  that  a  man  in  his  position  could  not  legally 


32      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

marry  without  first  having  the  King's  consent ; 
and  that  it  was  a  jest  to  suppose  that  the  King's  heir 
could  be  wedded  to  the  daughter  o£  an  insignificant 
lawyer,  who,  though  given  a  peerage,  was  not  even  of 
noble  blood.  As  for  his  tenderness  of  heart  towards 
the  lady,  he  could  soon  rid  himself  of  that  if  he  would 
but  listen  to  what  a  few  men  of  the  Court  could  tell 
him  about  Anne. 

This  raised  James's  curiosity,  and  also  promised  a 
probable  settlement  of  his  doubts ;  he  therefore  said  he 
would  meet  these  courtiers  and  hear  what  they  could 
tell  him.  So  Berkeley  called  together  Arran,  Jermyn, 
Talbot,  and  Killigrew,  "  all  men  of  honour,"  and 
gave  them  some  instructions ;  he  then  introduced  them 
to  the  Duke's  presence,  and  the  latter  in  a  somewhat 
shamefaced  way  explained  the  situation,  adding 
that  as  the  innocence  of  girls  at  her  age  was  exposed 
to  Court  scandal,  and  as  certain  reports  true  or  false 
were  circulating  as  to  her  conduct,  he  trusted  that 
being  his  friends  they  would  tell  him  all  that  they 
knew,  as  he  intended  to  judge  in  this  affair  according 
to  the  evidence  they  gave. 

At  first  these  honourable  gentlemen  hesitated  and 
seemed  afraid  to  answer  the  noble  Duke  ;  then  one, 
the  Earl  of  Arran,  related  some  flirtatious  incident, 
and  each  man  followed  with  his  own  particular  story. 
Killigrew  was  the  last,  and  in  his  eagerness  to  go  one 
better  than  his  companions  he  coloured  his  really 
abominable  story  too  highly,  and  James  knew  that 
what  he  said  was  false.  However,  he  thanked  his 
friends  for  their  frankness,  enjoined  silence  upon 
them,  and  went  immediately  to  seek  the  King. 

James  had   really  been   afraid   to  tell  his   brother 


ANNE  HYDE,  DUCHESS  OF  YORK   33 

of  his  entanglement,  but  now  he  felt  that  there  was 
no  escape,  and  that  he  would  have  to  do  whatever 
Charles  decided.  It  is  said  that  he  was  really  biased 
by  the  disgusting  concoctions  of  the  loose  men  who 
knew  as  little  of  principle  as  they  did  of  love  ;  and 
Anne  was  for  weeks  left  in  torment.  Gramont, 
who  dictated  his  memoirs  many  years  later,  would 
make  us  believe  that  the  whole  affair  was  settled  in  a 
day.  But  that  was  not  so.  One  likes  to  believe, 
though,  that  what  the  genial  Frenchman  said  about 
Berkeley  was  true — that  when  he  saw  the  Duke 
of  York  returning  from  his  interview  with  the  King, 
looking  extremely  grave  and  distressed,  he  wished 
that  he  had  kept  clear  of  the  whole  matter,  and 
from  sympathizing  with  the  Duke  fell  to  pitying 
"  poor  Mrs.  Hyde "  and  commiserating  her  dis- 
appointment. 

Charles  was  furious  at  the  news,  and  at  first  seemed 
to  think  the  marriage  an  impossibility,  but  Clarendon 
was  a  valued  counsellor  and  friend,  and  he  could  not 
bring  disgrace  upon  him.  Anne  had  not  come  over  to 
England  with  her  father,  but  remained  in  her  post  as 
maid  to  the  Princess ;  and  Clarendon  began  to  think 
that  it  was  time  his  daughter  was  settled  down  with  a 
husband  ;  so  he  sought  out  a  suitable  match,  and  then 
sent  for  his  daughter  to  come  home.  This  naturally 
pressed  events  forward.  Anne  could  not  long  hide  the 
perplexity  she  was  in,  and  her  near  presence  altered 
the  aspect  of  affairs  for  James.  A  masterly  inactivity 
no  longer  met  the  case.  The  really  surprising  thing 
in  this  romance  was  that  Charles,  whatever  his  first 
feeling,  upheld  Anne's  claim.  He  turned  at  once 
to  Clarendon   for   advice,    and    sent   some    intimate 


34     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

friend  of  the  Chancellor  to  break  the  intelligence  to 
him. 

Clarendon  was  struck  to  the  heart  by  what  he 
now  heard ;  he  regarded  his  daughter's  action  as 
treasonable,  advised  that  she  should  be  sent  to  the 
Tower,  and  that  an  Act  of  Parliament — which  he 
himself  would  propose — should  be  passed  to  cut  off 
her  head.  On  seeing  the  King  he  repeated  this  advice. 
He  was  actuated  by  many  motives  :  anger  against  his 
daughter,  whose  story  of  marriage  he  regarded  as  a 
pure  fiction  ;  fear  for  himself,  for  Charles  was  un- 
married, and  if  he  died  without  children  Clarendon 
himself  would  be  the  father  of  a  queen,  a  position 
which  he  believed  would  be  intolerable  to  the  nation  ; 
and  he  further  had  real  respect  for  the  Monarchy, 
which  made  the  position  intolerable  to  himself. 
His  very  excess  of  anger  calmed  any  irritation  remain- 
ing in  the  King's  mind,  and  helped  to  smooth  matters 
for  Anne.  But  of  all  people  Henrietta  Maria  was  the 
most  vehement  in  her  wrath,  protesting  that  if 
Anne  were  brought  to  Whitehall  she  would  never 
enter  it  again. 

The  actual  marriage  ceremony,  for  James  was  not 
proof  against  Anne's  entreaties,  took  place  in  secret  in 
Worcester  House,  at  midnight,  on  September  3rd, 
1660,  and  on  October  22nd  a  son  was  born.  The 
Duke,  still  influenced  by  Berkeley's  fabrications, 
though  more  or  less  disbelieving  them,  was  even  then 
in  two  minds  about  acknowledging  his  wife ;  but 
Charles's  complaisance  and  the  sudden  withdrawal 
of  the  Queen-mother's  objections  had  an  effect  upon 
him.  Pepys  says  that  the  Queen  was  bought  by 
great    offers    on    Clarendon's   part   to   befriend    her 


ANNE  HYDE,   DUCHESS  OF  YORK       35 

and  help  her  to  pay  off  her  debts,  the  Chancellor 
undertaking  to  have  the  settlement  of  her  affairs 
go  through  his  hands.  Burnet  says  that  the  change 
was  caused  by  a  message  to  her  from  Cardinal  Mazarin, 
representing  the  French  ministry,  intimating  that 
they  would  be  better  pleased  if  she  would  be  recon- 
ciled to  her  two  sons  and  to  those  whom  they  most 
trusted. 

Anne  protested  stoutly  that  she  was  the  Duke's 
wife,  and  she  would  have  that  known,  let  him  use  her 
as  he  would.  The  gossip  and  scandal  was  unending, 
people  taking  sides  as  to  the  Duke's  probable  action, 
and  no  one  knowing  that  an  actual  marriage  had  been 
solemnized.  Then  one  day  James  called  upon  Sir 
Charles  Berkeley  and  the  Earl  of  Ossory  to  meet  him 
at  Worcester  House.  With  feelings  of  considerable 
discomfort  the  two  "  men  of  honour  "  repaired  to  the 
appointed  place,  thinking  that  at  last  they  would  be 
called  upon  to  prove  their  words  and  witness  the 
agony  of  which  they  would  have  been  partly  the 
cause.  They  found  the  Duke  in  Mrs.  Hyde's  room  ; 
she  pale  and  troubled,  tears  which  she  tried  to  restrain 
slowly  running  down  her  face.  The  Chancellor  was 
there  too,  leaning  against  a  wall  with  a  very  disturbed 
air,  no  doubt,  as  Berkeley  thought,  filled  with  rage. 
Then  the  Duke  turned  to  them  "  with  that  serene 
and  pleasant  countenance  with  which  men  announce 
good  news,"  and  said,  "  As  you  are  the  two  men  of  the 
Court  whom  I  most  esteem,  I  am  desirous  you  should 
first  have  the  honour  of  paying  your  compliments 
to  the  Duchess  of  York  ;    there  she  is." 

The  two  men  were  astounded,  but  they  dared  not 
show  it  ;    and  the  only  thing  they  could  think  of  to 


36     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

hide  their  emotion  was  to  drop  upon  their  knees  and 
kiss  the  Duchess's  hand,  which  she  gave  them  with  as 
much  majesty  as  though  she  had  been  used  to  it  all 
her  life.  The  next  day,  towards  the  end  of  December, 
the  marriage  was  publicly  owned,  and  the  whole  Court 
showed  an  eager  desire  to  pay  Anne  respect.  It  is 
possible  that  Anne's  tears  before  this  interview  may 
have  been  caused  by  the  realization  that  James  still 
accepted  as  his  close  friends  men  who  had  slandered 
her  so  vilely  ;  but  whatever  her  feelings,  she  showed 
no  resentment  towards  them,  her  one  fling  at  them 
being  "  that  nothing  was  a  greater  proof  of  the 
attachment  of  a  man  of  honour  than  his  being  more 
solicitous  for  the  interest  of  his  friend  or  master 
than  for  his  own  reputation." 

Sir  Charles  Berkeley  had  the  grace  to  tell  James  that 
the  stories  he  and  the  others  had  repeated  about  Anne 
were  mere  fabrications,  invented  to  save  James  from 
the  consequence  of  his  own  actions.  On  New  Year's 
Day  Henrietta  received  her  son  and  his  wife  with 
"  much  respect  and  love  "  ;  and  on  May  6th,  1661, 
ended  this  painful  episode  in  the  life  of  the  Duchess  of 
York  with  the  death  of  the  little  son, — a  death  which 
more  or  less  pleased  everybody  ;  even  the  Duke  and 
his  wife  were  said  not  to  be  much  troubled  by  it, 
for  in  future  years  there  might  be  some  question  as 
to  his  legitimacy. 

Anne  had  many  good  qualities ;  she  was  said  to 
be  a  keen  business  woman,  though  her  desire  to  keep 
her  husband  within  reasonable  limits  of  expenditure 
did  not  prevent  her  from  demanding  a  large  income 
for  her  own  personal  expenses.  She  encouraged  art 
and  literature,   having  a   literary   talent   herself,   for 


ANNE  HYDE,  DUCHESS  OF  YORK   37 

she  began  to  write  an  account  of  James's  career, 
founded  upon  his  journals ;  and  it  is  said  that  this 
fragmentary  evidence  of  his  Hfe  and  intentions  was 
the  treasure  within  the  casket  which  he  was  so  anxious 
to  take  away  with  him  in  his  flight  from  England. 
The  Duchess  was,  however,  very  jealous,  and  had 
many  opportunities  to  exercise  that  jealousy,  for 
James  was  quite  as  licentious  as  his  brother,  though  his 
amours,  being  of  less  importance,  attracted  less  public 
attention. 

As  soon  as  he  had  more  or  less  satisfactorily  settled 
his  matrimonial  troubles,  he  looked  upon  the  fair  wives 
and  sisters  of  his  friends,  scarcely  regretting  that 
many  were  more  handsome  than  the  handsomest  of 
his  dead  sister's  maids  of  honour  (for  the  Princess  of 
Orange  had  died  of  smallpox  in  December,  1660). 
The  first  woman  to  whom  he  paid  particular  attention 
was  Lady  Carnegie,  who  was  "  tolerably  handsome  " 
and  "  naturally  inclined  to  tenderness."  The  lady's 
husband  promptly  interposed  and  induced  the  Duke 
to  look  elsewhere.  Then  Margaret  Brooke,  of  whom 
there  is  more  to  tell  later,  caught  his  fancy,  but  Lady 
Chesterfield  had  a  mind  to  rob  the  girl  of  her  conquest, 
and  made  the  "  most  extravagant  advances  to  the 
Duke,  who,  being  the  most  unguarded  ogler  of  his 
time,  quickly  betrayed  to  the  whole  Court  what  was 
going  on."  This  was  more  than  Anne  could  put  up 
with.  She  scolded  her  husband,  complained  to  her 
father,  and  at  last  spoke  bitterly  to  the  King  of  the 
way  in  which  James  treated  her.  It  made  such  a 
hubbub  that  Lord  Chesterfield  knew  a  great  deal 
more  about  the  matter  than  his  wife  either  told  him 
or  wished  him  to  know,  so  that  though  it  was  in  the 


38      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

depth  of  the  winter  he  whisked  her  off  into  the  country 
and  never  let  her  return  to  London. 

In  the  meantime  Miss  Brooke  married  Sir  John 
Denham,  a  man  considerably  older  than  herself,  and 
promised  James  all  sorts  of  favours  if  he  would  get  her 
made  one  of  Anne's  ladies.  Anne  was  furious  at  the 
suggestion,  and  indignantly  refused  to  accede  to  such 
a  request.  James  insisted,  and  Anne  persisted  in  her 
refusal,  and  then,  to  the  horror  of  every  one.  Lady 
Denham  was  taken  violently  ill.  Poison,  said  some, 
and  poison  cried  the  victim,  who,  however,  was  ill 
for  two  months  before  she  died.  There  were  those 
who  believed  Anne  had  accomplished  her  rival's  death, 
and  some  one  affixed  to  the  door  of  her  palace  a 
lampoon  charging  her  with  the  crime. 

James  had  the  reputation  for  admiring  women 
for  their  wit  rather  than  their  beauty,  thus  pro- 
voking the  remark  from  Charles  that  his  brother's 
mistresses  were  chosen  for  him  by  the  priests  as  a 
penance,  a  mot  which  was  not  so  good  as  that  by  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  upon  the  intelligence  of  the  two 
brothers,  that  "  Charles  could  if  he  would,  but  James 
would  if  he  could."  However,  the  Duke's  fancy 
roved  lightly  to  Elizabeth  Hamilton,  to  Frances 
Jennings,  and  to  a  few  other  ladies  connected  either 
with  the  Queen's  or  the  Duchess's  households,  until 
Anne  grew  thoroughly  tired  with  his  intrigues. 

The  Duchess  did  not  bear  all  this  without  remon- 
strance, and  Charles,  who  was  at  the  time  diligently 
playing  the  part  of  tame  cat  to  his  shrewish  mistress, 
Lady  Castlemaine,  used  to  joke  about  his  brother 
as  a  henpecked  man.  One  day,  after  some  new 
disturbance,     he     remarked     that     he     really    could 


ANNE  HYDE,  DUCHESS  OF  YORK   39 

not  be  troubled  with  this  Tom  Otter  and  his 
wife. 

"  Sire,  pray  which  is  best  for  a  man,  to  be  Tom  Otter 
to  his  wife  or  to  his  mistress  ?  "  asked  Thomas  KilH- 
grew,  Tom  Otter  being  a  henpecked  husband  in  a  play. 

James  was  more  or  less  afraid  of  Anne's  tongue, 
and  so  he  suppressed  his  irritation  at  her  interference 
as  much  as  he  possibly  could.  If  only  his  wife  were  not 
so  correct  in  her  own  life,  if  she  would  but  give  him 
cause  to  retaliate  upon  her  !  But  there  seemed  no 
hope  of  that,  and  he  tried  to  pretend  that  it  was  the 
merest  gallantry  which  actuated  him.  The  opportunity 
was  long  in  coming;  meanwhile  he  amused  himself  with 
falling  in  love  with  Arabella  Churchill,  sister  to  Jack 
Churchill,  the  celebrated  Duke  of  Marlborough. 
She  was  one  of  Anne's  maids  of  honour,  and  Gramont 
describes  her  as  "  a  tall  creature,  pale-faced,  and 
nothing  but  skin  and  bone.  .  .  .  The  Court  was  not 
able  to  comprehend  how,  after  having  been  in  love  with 
Lady  Chesterfield,  Miss  Hamilton,  and  Miss  Jennings, 
he  could  have  had  any  inclination  for  such  a  creature." 
To  the  Duchess's  jealousy  this  time  was  added  the 
bitterest  indignation  that  her  husband  should  admire 
a  woman  whose  want  of  beauty  seemed  to  debase 
her  own  merit  in  his  eyes,  and  while  she  was  in  this 
state  of  rage  she  began  to  notice  Henry  Sidney,  the 
youngest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  was  re- 
markably handsome,  dressed  well,  and  considered 
himself  one  of  the  most  desirable  men  alive.  The 
observant  Gramont  says  of  him  on  one  occasion : 
"  Sidney,  more  handsome  than  the  beautiful  Adonis, 
and  dressed  more  gay  than  usual,  alighted  just  then 
from  his  coach  :    Miss  Price  went  boldly  up  to  him 


40      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

as  he  was  adjusting  his  curls  ;  but  he  was  too  much 
occupied  with  his  own  dear  self  to  attend  to  anything 
else,  and  so  passed  on  without  deigning  to  give  her 
an  answer." 

There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Anne  admired  him,  as 
did  every  one  else  ;  whether  she  admitted  him  to  any 
close  friendship  it  is  difficult  to  say.  Bishop  Burnet 
says  that  he  was  a  very  graceful  young  man  of  quality, 
whose  services  were  so  acceptable  that  she  was  thought 
to  look  at  him  in  a  particular  manner.  Gramont 
talks  of  "  perfidious  Cupid,"  adding  that  Sidney's 
"  eyes  rashly  answered  everything  which  those  of 
Her  Royal  Highness  had  the  kindness  to  tell  him." 

If  Anne  did  accept  Sidney  as  a  lover  it  must  be 
remembered  that  she  was  only  twenty-seven,  a 
slighted  wife,  whose  spirit  was  rampant  with  anger 
and  jealousy  against  her  husband.  However  it  was, 
the  matter  was  not  observed  by  James  for  some  time, 
indeed,  at  Anne's  request,  he  made  Sidney  master  of 
her  horse,  which  post  gave  opportunity  for  constant 
intercourse  between  the  Duchess  and  Sidney. 

The  whole  Court  seemed  at  this  time  to  be  engaged 
in  love-making  of  a  doubtful  kind.  Lady  Castlemaine 
was  encouraging  Henry  Jermyn,  nephew  of  Lord 
St.  Albans,  who  was  said  to  have  married  Henrietta 
Maria  ;  and  it  was  reported  that  the  Duke,  already 
tiring  of  the  plain  Arabella,  was  casting  his  eyes  upon 
the  pretty  Frances  Stuart,  much  to  the  King's  anger. 
So  factions  ran  high,  and  every  one  was  in  a  state  of 
excitement. 

Then  some  kind  friend  whispered  to  James  that 
it  would  be  as  well  if  he  watched  the  Duchess's  chief 
equerry,   and    James's   suspicions   being   aroused,   he 


ANNE  HYDE,  DUCHESS  OF  YORK        41 

did  watch,  and  saw  enough,  either  to  justify  him  in 
the  greatest  resentment,  or  to  give  him  the  oppor- 
tunity of  once  and  for  all  shaking  off  his  wife's  restrain- 
ing influence.  There  was  a  tremendous  row  in  which 
both  Anne  and  James  told  each  other  many  emphatic 
things,  and  when  the  first  excitement  was  over 
James  balanced  his  unusual  flow  of  words  by  not 
speaking  again  to  his  wife  for  many  days.  Sidney, 
of  course,  was  banished  from  Court,  and  to  all  outward 
appearance  the  episode  ended,  though  in  reality  it  led 
to  very  important  results.  Hitherto,  as  I  have  said, 
the  Duke  had  been  at  the  pains  of  masking  his  intrigues 
and  at  least  of  publicly  showing  deference  to  the  wishes 
of  his  wife.  Now  being,  or  pretending  to  be,  jealous 
of  her,  he  threw  off  all  restraint  in  his  own  intrigues ; 
and  the  Duchess,  finding  that  she  had  lost  her  hold 
upon  him,  tried  to  regain  it  by  accepting  his  religious 
views.  To  this  end  she  appointed  certain  hours  for 
the  Catholic  priest  to  visit  her,  and  before  long  secretly 
owned  herself  to  be  a  Roman  Catholic. 

Anne  was  never  popular.  Her  pride  was  the  talk 
of  the  Court,  and  offended  all  those  about  her  ;  so  that 
there  were  always  plenty  of  people  ready  to  make 
mischief.  The  next  murmur  against  her  was  that 
while  spending  everything  she  wished  herself,  she  held 
her  husband's  purse-strings  too  tightly  ;  and  some  of 
the  Court  intriguers  tried  to  damage  her  in  Charles's 
eyes  by  saying  that  the  Duke  was  entirely  ruled  by  his 
wife.  As  the  financial  affairs  of  James  were  in  a 
terribly  embarrassed  condition,  this  caused  the  blame 
to  fall  upon  Anne,  and  a  small  committee  was  formed 
to  examine  their  accounts,  with  the  result  that  the 
Yorks  were  proved  to  be  spending  ^^20,000  annually 


42      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

above  their  income.  The  Duchess  did  not  Hmit  her 
supervision  to  her  household  accounts,  for  she  seemed 
to  have  been  in  the  habit  of  attending  her  husband's 
Council  for  his  household.  A  certain  Mr.  Povey, 
who,  in  consideration  of  giving  up  some  place,  was 
awarded  a  pension  of  ^400  a  year  by  the  Duke,  told 
Pepys  one  day  that  he  was  likely  to  lose  his  pension, 
for  the  Duchess  was  a  very  devil  against  him,  and 
came,  like  Queen  Ehzabeth,  to  sit  with  the  Duke's 
Council  and  see  what  they  did ;  "  and  she  crosses  out 
this  man's  wages  and  prices,  as  she  sees  fit,  for  saving 
money  ;  but  yet  she  reserves  ;£5000  a  year  for  her 
own  spending,"  and  lays  up  jewels. 

In  1667  Clarendon  fell  from  power,  was  cast  upon 
his  back  with  no  chance  of  rising  again,  as  one  writer 
has  it — a  circumstance  which  should  have  made,  and 
perhaps  did  make,  Anne  mournful.  Clarendon  himself 
had  always  believed  that  his  daughter's  high  marriage 
must  mean  his  own  ruin,  and  there  is  no  doubt  but 
that  it  added  largely  to  the  jealousy  which  was  felt 
against  him.  Yet  when  he  wrote  to  her  from  his  pain- 
ful exile  in  France,  that  she  would  use  her  influence 
on  his  behalf,  his  letters  remained  unanswered. 

Of  the  eight  children  Anne  bore  only  two  survived, 
and  it  must  have  been  a  grief  to  her  to  see  all  her  four 
sons  die.  She  had  little  comfort  in  her  husband  or 
his  friends,  and  could  never  again  have  been  so  happy 
as  during  the  few  months  after  her  first  marriage  with 
James.  Yet  she  had  one  real  pleasure  left  her,  and 
that  was  the  table.  She  is  said  by  a  contemporary 
to  have  been  one  of  "  the  highest  feeders  in  England," 
and  to  have  recompensed  herself  in  this  way  for  other 
enforced  self-denials.    "  It  was  really  an  edifying  sight 


ANNE  HYDE,  DUCHESS  OF  YORK       43 

to  see  her  at  table.  The  Duke,  on  the  contrary,  being 
incessantly  in  the  hurry  of  new  fancies,  exhausted 
himself  by  his  inconstancy,  and  was  gradually  wasting 
away,  while  the  poor  Princess,  gratifying  her  good 
appetite,  grew  so  plump  and  fat  that  it  was  a  blessing 
to  see  her  !  "  So  says  Gramont,  and  Pepys,  when  speak- 
ing of  kissing  her  hand,  adds,  "  and  it  was  a  fine,  white, 
plump  hand." 

Anne  was  only  thirty-four  when  she  died.  Most 
historians  give  no  name  to  the  bad  health  from  which 
she  suffered,  though  one  of  them  is  only  too  explicit. 
"  A  long  decay  of  health  came  at  last  to  a  quicker  crisis 
than  had  been  apprehended.  All  of  a  sudden  she  fell 
into  the  agony  of  death,"  which  is  perhaps  description 
enough.  Poor  Anne  !  she  paid  dearly  for  the  indiscreet 
love  of  her  youth  in  watching  six  feeble  diseased 
children  die,  and  in  dying  herself  while  still  a  young 
woman  ;  but,  like  the  child  who  suffered  pain  through 
overmuch  eating  of  green  apples,  she  may,  when 
remembering  the  position  she  had  gained,  have  said, 
"  It  was  worth  it  !  " 

In  one  way  her  death  made  a  great  stir,  for  she 
died  a  Catholic,  though  she  had  never  acknowledged 
her  change  of  faith.  Feeling  sure  that  she  had  a  very 
short  time  to  live,  she  begged  her  husband  not  to  leave 
her  alone  until  she  was  dead,  adding  that  if  Dr.  Bland- 
ford  came  he  was  to  be  told  the  truth.  She  evidently 
felt  the  need  of  protection,  and  Queen  Catherine 
joined  with  the  Duke  in  watching  over  the  dying 
woman.  When  Blandford,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
Worcester,  did  come,  he  found  the  Queen  there, 
and  in  deference  to  her  and  her  opinions  he  had 
not  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  begin  his  prayers, 


44     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

so  he  waited,  hoping  for  Catherine's  departure. 
But  the  Queen  sat  on,  and  Blandford  got  no  further 
than  expressing  a  hope  that  Anne  continued  in  the 
truth.  Upon  which  she  asked,  "  What  is  truth  ?  " 
and  her  pain  increasing,  she  repeated  often,  "  Truth, 
truth,"  and  in  a  few  minutes  died,  not  much  lamented 
and  not  much  loved  by  any. 

Lely  painted  her  picture  several  times,  Pepys  telling 
how  one  day  he  walked  to  the  artist's  studio,  where  he 
saw,  among  other  rare  things,  "  the  Duchess  of  York, 
her  whole  body,  sitting  in  state  in  a  chair,  in  white 
satin." 


CHAPTER   III 

BARBARA   VILLIERS 

"  We  are  much  indebted  to  the  memory  of  Barbara,  Duchess  of 
Cleveland  ;  Louisa,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  ;  and  Mrs.  Eleanor  Gwyn. 
We  owe  a  tribute  of  gratitude  to  the  Mays,  the  Killigrews,  the  Chif- 
finches,  and  the  Gramonts.  They  played  a  serviceable  part  in  ridding 
the  kingdom  of  its  besotted  loyalty.  They  saved  our  forefathers  from 
the  star-chamber  and  the  high  commission  court ;  they  laboured  in 
their  vocation  against  standing  armies  and  corruption  ;  they  pressed 
forward  the  great  ultimate  security  of  English  freedom,  the  expulsion 
of  the  house  of  Stuart." — Hallam. 

King  Charles's  good  resolutions  did  not  last  long,  as 
has  been  said,  and  as  Mrs.  Barbara  Palmer  attracted 
his  notice  before  he  was  king,  and  accepted  his 
attentions  from  the  moment  that  he  entered  London, 
she  may  well  have  one  of  the  foremost  places  in  our 
gallery. 

Barbara's  maiden  name  was  Villiers,  she  being  the 
daughter  of  William  Villiers,  Viscount  Grandison, 
who,  at  the  commencement  of  the  Civil  War,  received 
a  commission  as  Colonel-General  to  raise  a  regiment 
for  Charles  I.  In  July,  1643,  the  gallant  Colonel  was 
mortally  wounded  at  the  siege  of  Bristol,  leaving  his 
little  daughter,  w'ho  was  not  quite  three  years  old  at 
the  time,  to  the  care  of  her  mother  Mary,  the  daughter 
of  the  first  Viscount  Bayning.  Scandal  attacked  the 
child  even  over  her  birth,  for  in  The  Secret  History  of 
Charles  II  it  is  asserted  as  a  well-known  fact  that 
Barbara  was  the  daughter  of  Henrietta  Maria  and  the 

45 


46      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Earl  of  St.  Albans,  and  therefore  half-sister  to  Charles. 
For  this  story  there  seems  to  be  no  foundation,  though 
Barbara's  most  important  biographer,  G.  S.  Steinman, 
says  that  a  daughter  of  this  secret  marriage  was  born 
abroad.  The  statement  could  only  be  true  on  the 
assumption  that  Viscount  Grandison  had  connived  at 
hiding  the  child's  birth  and  had  adopted  her  as  his 
own,  and  there  is  no  proof  of  this.  Clarendon  says 
of  him  that  he  was  a  man  of  so  virtuous  a  habit  of 
mind  that  no  temptation  could  corrupt  him,  a  lover 
of  justice  and  integrity,  of  rare  piety  and  devotion. 
Of  Lady  Grandison  little  is  known  beyond  the  fact 
that  she  married  again  in  1648,  her  second  husband 
being  of  the  same  family  as  her  first,  for  he  was  Charles 
Villiers,  the  second  Earl  of  Anglesey.  It  is  in  his 
house  in  London  that  we  first  hear  of  Barbara,  then 
a  girl  of  sixteen. 

In  those  days  of  extremely  early  marriages  it  is  a 
little  surprising  that  Barbara  Villiers,  heiress  to  her 
father's  estates,  remained  without  a  husband  until 
she  was  eighteen.  She  was  a  striking,  well-developed 
girl,  and  was  twitted  then  for  her  black  eyes  and  round 
baby  face.  In  actual  fact  her  eyes  were  blue,  that 
dark  blue  which  under  emotion  seems  black,  and  her 
luxuriant  hair  was  auburn.  Her  lips  were  too  full 
for  real  beauty,  though  in  Charles's  day  a  voluptu- 
ous fulness  may  have  been  thought  more  admirable 
than  a  delicate  curve.  Her  vivacious  manner  and  her 
boldness  soon  drew  admirers  to  the  house  of  her  step- 
father, and  the  girl,  who  to-day  would  have  been  at 
school,  had  her  time  filled  with  the  endeavour  to 
keep  them  all  around  her,  to  play  one  off  against 
the  other,  and  to  get  every  possible  atom  of  amuse- 


Bakhaka  ^■II.L1ERS,  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  as  Minerva 
iAftei-  /.,:/)'■) 

[to    FACI'.    I'AGK   46 


BARBARA  VILLIERS  47 

ment  that  she  could  secure  from  their  rivalry  and 
proffers  o£  love.  Gradually,  however,  she  began  to 
give  preference  to  one  of  them,  the  Earl  of  Chester- 
field, who  was  a  widower  though  only  five  years  older 
than  herself,  and  who  has  been  described  as  having 
"  a  very  agreeable  countenance,  a  fine  head  of  hair, 
an  iiidifferent  figure  and  a  worse  air  ;  he  was  not, 
however,  deficient  in  wit."  In  character  Chesterfield 
was  a  rake,  and  his  attentions  to  Barbara  were  neither 
platonic  nor  innocent  of  guile,  while  the  girl  willingly 
made  assignations  with  him.  In  one  of  her  letters 
to  him  she  says  that  she  and  her  friend  Lady  Anne 
Hamilton  are  in  bed  together  cogitating  how  and 
where  to  meet  him  during  the  afternoon,  adding  that 
if  he  deserves  that  favour  he  will  look  for  them  in 
Butler's  shop  on  Ludgate  Hill  at  about  three  o'clock. 

From  another  letter  we  learn  that  Barbara  hopes 
"  the  fates  may  yet  be  so  kind  as  to  let  me  see  you 
about  five  o'clock  ;  and  if  you  will  be  at  your  private 
lodgings  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  I  will  endeavour  to 
come."  She  further  speaks  of  doing  nothing  but 
dream  of  him,  and  her  life  being  never  pleasant 
but  when  talking  to  him  or  of  him. 

Yet  at  this  very  time  Chesterfield's  banns  were 
being  asked  in  the  church  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields, 
the  prospective  bride  being  Mary  Fairfax,  daughter 
and  heiress  of  Thomas  Lord  Fairfax,  one  of  Crom- 
well's chief  supporters.  After  the  banns  had  been 
published,  some  say  two,  others  three  times,  Bar- 
bara's cousin,  the  irresponsible  Buckingham,  another 
Villiers,  who  was 

"  Stiff  in  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong, 
Was  everything  by  starts,  and  nothing  long," 


48      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

danced  upon  the  scene,  captured  the  fancy  of  Mary, 
and  carried  her  off  to  a  Hfe  perhaps  a  little  worse 
than  she  would  have  had  with  Chesterfield. 

There  was  certainly  something  wrong  with  the 
Villiers,  for  when  Roger  Palmer,  a  clever  young  man 
who  was  studying  for  the  Bar,  desired  to  marry 
Barbara,  his  father  was  strongly  against  the  match  ; 
but  Palmer  was  bent  on  his  own  undoing,  and  the 
marriage  took  place  in  1659.  Barbara  had  neither 
love  for  her  husband  nor  any  respect  for  his  attain- 
ments, which  were  considerable,  and  she  soon  con- 
tinued her  correspondence  with  Chesterfield,  nick- 
naming her  husband  "  Mounseer  "  and  complaining 
of  his  jealousy  ;  saying  that  she  was  ready  to  go  all 
over  the  world  with  Chesterfield  and  would  obey  his 
commands  while  she  lived. 

She  had  an  attack  of  smallpox  a  few  months  after 
her  marriage,  which  did  not,  however,  spoil  her  beauty, 
and  it  was  probably  during  that  illness  she  wrote  as 
follows  to  her  lover  : 

"  My  Dear  Life, — I  have  been  this  day  extremely 
ill,  and  the  not  hearing  from  you  hath  made  me  much 
worse  than  otherwayes  I  should  have  been.  The  doctor 
doth  believe  me  in  a  desperate  condition,  and  I  must 
confess  that  the  unwillingness  I  have  to  leave  you 
makes  me  not  entertaine  the  thoughts  of  death  so 
willingly  as  otherwise  I  should  ;  for  there  is  nothing 
besides  yourself  that  could  make  me  desire  to  live  a 
day  ;  and  if  I  am  never  so  happy  as  to  see  you  more, 
yet  the  last  words  I  will  say  shall  be  a  prayer  for  your 
happiness,  and  so  I  will  live  and  die  loving  you  above 
all  other  things." 

There  can  be  very  little  doubt  but  that  Barbara 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  49 

was  really  in  love  with  the  Earl,  for  her  letters  show 
a  meekness  of  spirit  which  animated  none  of  her  later 
actions ;  and  it  is  possible  that  the  light  estimate  in 
which  he  held  her — shown  by  his  projected  marriage 
while  engaged  in  seeking  her  favour,  and  by  his  later 
coldness — ^was  responsible  for  the  definite  character 
which  this  woman  developed.  Roger  Palmer  was  both 
clever  and  amiable,  and  perhaps  he  let  his  reason  con- 
trol his  emotion  to  an  exceptional  degree  ;  however, 
before  his  jealousy  took  active  form  Chesterfield  had 
killed  a  man  in  a  duel  and  had  to  fly  the  country. 

Where  Charles  II  first  met  Barbara  Palmer  is  not 
known.  Mrs.  Jameson,  the  only  writer  who  has  given 
a  detailed  account  of  the  Windsor  Beauties,  and  who 
wrote  three-quarters  of  a  century  ago,  says  that  it 
was  in  Holland,  in  1659  '■>  ^^^  Charles  was  in  Brussels 
all  that  year.  It  is  more  likely  that  Roger  Palmer, 
who  was  an  ardent  RoyaHst,  went  out  with  other 
enthusiasts  to  show  his  loyalty  to  the  King,  and  took 
his  wife  with  him.  They  probably  came  back  with 
Charles.  In  any  case  it  seems  fairly  certain  that  they 
met  before  the  King's  return  to  his  own  country,  for. 
Sultan  though  he  was,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  believe 
that  Charles  threw  the  handkerchief  on  the  day  of 
his  return  to  a  woman  whom  he  had  never  seen  before. 
While  abroad  many  were  the  fair  dames  who  suc- 
cumbed to  his  ardent  love-making — Lady  Byron  was 
the  seventeenth,  it  is  said — and  if  the  Palmers  really 
went  to  meet  him  in  Brussels  it  is  easy  to  understand 
the  beginning  of  a  connection  which  lasted  for  at 
least  ten  years. 

Certain  it  is  that  when  on  his  birthday,  May  29th, 
1660,  Charles  had  passed  along  flower-strewn  roads 


50      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

crowded  with  cheering  EngHshmen,  had  seen  his 
soldiers  kiss  the  hilts  o£  their  swords  before  flourishing 
them  in  the  air  with  shouts  of  loyalty,  had  traversed 
streets  hung  with  tapestry,  silks,  and  velvet,  had 
knighted  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the  aldermen,  had 
listened  to  interminable  addresses,  and  had  at  last,  to 
the  roar  of  cannon,  been  deposited  safely  in  White- 
hall, making  his  famous  remark  that  surely  it  had  been 
only  his  own  fault  that  he  had  stayed  so  long  away, 
as  every  one  seemed  unanimous  in  promoting  his 
return — certain  it  is  that  then  he  allowed  himself 
some  relaxation  in  courting  Madame  Palmer.  Mrs. 
Jameson  tells  us  that  he  wended  his  way  through 
bonfire-lit  streets  to  the  house  of  Sir  Samuel  Morland 
at  Vauxhall,  where  Mistress  Palmer  was  staying,  re- 
maining there  the  night ;  but  this  is  not  according 
to  facts.  Samuel  Morland  did  not  lease  his  house 
until  five  years  later,  so  Barbara  could  not  have  stayed 
there ;  while  contemporary  authorities  state  that 
Charles  did  not  leave  the  palace  that  night,  that, 
indeed,  the  assignation  took  place  in  Whitehall  itself. 

In  February,  1661,  Barbara's  first  child  was  born, 
and  was  named  Anne,  being  acknowledged  as  daughter 
both  by  Charles  II  and  by  Roger  Palmer, — though 
generally  believed  to  be  the  child  of  Lord  Chester- 
field. 

The  Palmers  settled  down  in  a  house  in  King  Street, 
Westminster,  Roger  having  been  elected  Member  of 
Parliament  for  Windsor.  It  was  very  close  to  the 
house  of  the  Earl  of  Sandwich,  to  whom  Pepys  was 
secretary,  and  thus  we  get  from  the  diarist  various 
little  glimpses  of  his  "  dear  Lady  Castlemaine."  One 
evening  the  King  and  his  brothers  were  at  a  concert 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  51 

at  the  Palmers',  and  Pepys,  with  Lord  Sandwich,  stood 
long  at  the  door  listening  to  it.  At  another  time, 
when  walking  in  his  Lord's  garden,  he  says :  "  I  saw 
in  the  Privy  garden  the  finest  smocks  and  linen  petti- 
coats of  my  Lady  Castlemaine's,  laced  with  rich  lace 
at  the  bottom,  that  ever  I  saw,  and  did  me  good  to 
look  at  them."  Once  in  the  chapel  at  Whitehall 
Pepys  tells  how  Barbara  and  the  Duke  of  York  ogled 
each  other  ;  and  indeed  she  is  not  free  from  a  sus- 
picion of  allowing  James  as  well  as  his  brother  to  make 
love  to  her. 

Barbara's  fame  grew  as  the  months  passed.  At 
first  she  was  but  a  pretty  woman  for  whom  the  King 
and  the  Duke  of  York  had  what  might  prove  a  passing 
fancy  ;  when  the  title  of  Countess  of  Castlemaine 
was  conferred  upon  her  she  became  more  important 
in  the  public  eye.  Pepys'  admiration  was  in  direct  ratio 
to  her  reputation  and  her  favour  with  the  King. 
"  I  sat  before  Mrs.  Palmer,  the  King's  mistress,  and 
filled  my  eyes  with  her,  which  much  pleased  me  "  ; 
again,  at  the  theatre,  he  notes  that  it  was  a 
"  great  pleasure  to  see  so  many  great  beauties,  but 
above  all,  Mrs.  Palmer,  with  whom  the  King  do  dis- 
cover a  great  deal  of  familiarity ;  indeed,  I  can  never 
enough  admire  her  beauty." 

The  suggested  marriage  of  the  King  filled  Barbara's 
mind  with  turmoil,  and  she  used  her  tongue  freely 
to  him  and  to  all  others  who  mentioned  the  matter 
before  her.  For  she  was  by  no  means  a  meek  lover 
now  !  It  was  said  that  she  found  a  violent,  masterful 
temper  the  best  weapon  to  use.  To  pacify  her  the 
King  raised  Roger  Palmer  to  the  peerage  with  the 
Irish  title  of  Earl  of  Castlemaine,  the  title  to  descend 


52      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

only  to  children  born  of  Barbara.  Palmer,  who  at 
last  understood  the  situation,  was  so  disgusted  that 
the  honour  had  to  be  forced  upon  him,  but  he  never 
took  his  seat  in  the  House  of  Lords. 

By  this  time  the  character  of  Charles's  Court 
had  declared  itself ;  its  emulation,  its  poverty,  and  its 
vices  of  drinking,  swearing,  and  loose  amours  causing 
much  gossip  and  speculation.  There  were  factions 
too  among  the  courtiers  about  Mrs.  Palmer,  probably 
concerning  the  continuance  of  the  King's  favour  on 
the  arrival  of  the  Queen ;  factions  which  became  so 
fierce  that  Barbara's  cousin  Mary,  Duchess  of  Rich- 
mond, sister  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  called  her 
publicly  a  Jane  Shore,  and  hoped  she  would  come  to 
the  same  bad  end  ;  a  matter  which  much  offended  the 
King.  Lady  Castlemaine  even  went  so  far  as  to  declare 
that  the  second  child  which  she  was  expecting  at 
about  the  time  that  Catherine  of  Braganza  was  to 
arrive  should  be  born  at  Hampton  Court  ;  but  the 
King  had  too  much  decency  to  allow  this. 

Catherine's  ship  anchored  off  Portsmouth  on  May 
13th,  1662,  and  Lady  Castlemaine  revenged  herself 
slightly  for  the  coldness  which  was  generally  shown 
her  at  this  time  by  keeping  her  house  dark  and  allowing 
no  bonfire  to  be  lit  before  her  door.  The  King  had 
dined  and  supped  every  day  for  a  week  with  the 
mistress  whose  reign  was  now  so  much  endangered, 
and  on  the  13th,  when  all  the  world  was  in  the  streets 
rejoicing,  he  was  at  her  house  in  King  Street.  Like 
children,  the  two  sent  for  a  pair  of  scales  and  weighed 
each  other,  she  being  the  heavier,  it  is  said,  because 
of  her  condition. 

Brave  it  out  as  she  would,  however,  Barbara  was 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  53 

at  that  time  a  disconsolate  creature.  From  the  be- 
ginning of  May  until  the  beginning  of  June,  when 
her  second  child  was  born,  she  did  not  go  out  of  her 
house.  She  could  not  bear  the  coldness  of  those  who 
had  at  least  professed  friendship  for  her,  nor  the 
averted  looks  of  the  public.  Her  child,  named  Charles 
Fitzroy,  was  born  in  her  husband's  house  in  King 
Street,  and  soon  arose  the  excuse  which  Barbara 
wanted  altering  her  way  of  life.  Roger  Palmer  had 
become  a  Catholic,  and  he  had  the  boy  baptized  by 
a  priest ;  an  action  which  raised  all  the  mother's 
powers  of  vituperation,  for  she  could  and  did  swear 
like  a  fish-wife — as  the  saying  goes.  It  is  very  probable 
that  she  had  already  arranged  her  plans,  for,  having 
delivered  her  soul  of  its  wrath,  she  had  her  trunks — 
which  were  already  packed — the  furniture,  plate, 
every  dish  and  cloth,  even  the  servants,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  porter,  taken  to  Richmond  to  the  house 
of  a  brother.  This  must  have  been  a  stepbrother,  as 
she  was  her  father's  only  child.  So  when  Roger  re- 
turned to  the  house  he  found  it  denuded  of  every- 
thing. As  Barbara  had  carefully  made  him  aware 
of  all  that  there  was  to  know  about  the  relative 
interests  she  felt  in  him  and  the  King,  Castle- 
maine  went  over  to  France  determined,  said  gossip, 
to  enter  a  monastery.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  he 
did  not  adhere  to  this  resolve. 

Richmond  is  but  a  matter  of  four  or  five  miles  from 
Hampton  Court  where  the  King  and  his  bride  were 
staying,  and  Barbara's  anxiety  as  to  her  own  future 
status  made  Richmond  a  welcome  change  and  a  con- 
venient point  from  which  to  view  the  situation.  A 
few  weeks  later  the  baby  was  baptized  again  according 


54      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England,  the  King, 
the  Earl  of  Oxford,  and  one  of  the  Queen's  ladies, 
the  Countess  of  Suffolk,  aunt  to  Barbara,  acting  as 
sponsors. 

Queen  Catherine's  troubles  had  begun  as  soon  as  she 
sailed  into  the  harbour  of  Portsmouth.  She  was  very- 
uneducated,  very  narrow,  and  very  bigoted  ;  she 
could  not  understand  the  marriage  service  which  had 
to  be  performed  by  the  Protestant  as  well  as  the 
Catholic  rites,  and  refused  to  repeat  the  words.  Her 
dowry  of  half  a  million  in  gold  had  been  used  to  fit 
out  forces  against  Spain,  and  in  its  place  Charles,  to 
his  intense  disgust,  received  jewels,  sugar,  cotton,  silk, 
and  other  commodities  to  half  that  amount.  She 
had  been  warned  by  her  mother  never  to  allow 
Lady  Castlemaine  to  be  presented  to  her,  and  she 
thought  in  her  simplicity  that  it  would  be  easy 
to  obey  this  injunction.  It  w^as  only  necessary  to 
mention  it  to  her  husband  and  he  would  agree  !  She 
did  mention  it  to  Charles,  who  allowed  the  matter 
to  pass  for  the  moment,  though  he  was  determined 
that  Barbara  should  have  her  place  at  Court. 

Barbara  put  the  question  to  the  test ;  and  she  lost 
no  time  in  doing  so.  On  the  very  day  that  she  had 
quarrelled  with  her  husband,  when  her  child  was 
scarcely  three  weeks  old,  having  deposited  all  her 
belongings  at  Richmond,  she  dressed  herself  with 
care  and  drove  to  Hampton  Court,  for  she  was  in  a 
martial  mood  and  had  decided  to  begin  at  once  the 
battle  for  supremacy. 

The  forlorn,  strange  little  Queen  received  her  guests 
with  dignity  and  pleasant  smiles,  and  Lady  Castle- 
maine, led  up  by  the  King  himself,  met  with  the  same 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  55' 

treatment  as  the  others.  A  moment  later,  though, 
some  one  had  whispered  into  Catherine's  ear  the  name 
— which  she  had  not  caught — of  the  lady  who  had 
just  been  received.  A  cry  of  horror  rang  through 
the  room,  then  the  young  Queen  made  a  desperate 
attempt  to  control  herself,  but  it  was  too  much  for 
her  strength.  The  blood  which  rushed  to  her  head 
poured  from  her  nose,  and  she  fell  fainting  to  the 
floor.  Yet  a  day  or  two  later  when  Charles  gave  her 
a  list  of  ladies  who  it  was  proposed  should  attend  her 
bed-chamber,  the  name  of  Castlemaine  was  among 
them.  Catherine  pricked  it  out,  and  the  real  fight 
began.  The  Queen  declared  that  she  would  go  back 
to  her  own  country  rather  than  allow  such  an  appoint- 
ment to  be  made,  and  the  King  asked  scoffingly  how 
her  own  country  and  her  own  mother  would  receive 
her.  As  she  held  out  against  his  wishes,  Charles  prac- 
tically sent  his  bride  to  Coventry  ;  he  did  not  speak 
to  her  and  his  minions  followed  his  example  ;  she 
was  left  out  of  all  gaiety,  dances,  riding  parties  ;  even 
the  servants  became  careless  in  waiting  upon  her, 
and  all  but  one  of  her  ladies  were  sent  back  to 
Portugal.  Alone  and  despised  in  a  strange  country 
Catherine's  life  became  a  burden  to  her,  yet  for  a 
time  she  resisted  all  commands  to  be  compliant. 
Lord  Clarendon,  who  was  forced  by  Charles  to  the 
uncongenial  task  of  persuading  her,  told  his  master 
that  what  he  demanded  was  more  than  blood  could 
stand ;  but  opposition  only  made  the  King  more 
ferocious,  he  being  well  likened  at  the  time  to  a  wild 
boar  showing  his  tusks. 

Here  is  a  paragraph  from  the  letter  he  wrote  to 
Clarendon  on  this  occasion  : 


56      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

"  I  wish  I  may  be  as  unhappy  in  this  world,  and 
in  the  world  to  come,  i£  I  fail  in  the  least  degree  of 
what  I  am  resolved ;  which  is,  of  making  my  Lady 
Castlemaine  of  my  wife's  bed-chamber ;  and  whoso- 
ever I  find  use  any  endeavours  to  hinder  this  resolu- 
tion of  mine,  except  it  be  only  to  myself,  I  will  be 
his  enemy  to  the  last  moment  of  my  life."  To  this 
arbitrary  pronouncement  he  at  least  had  the  grace 
to  add  that  "  the  lady  would  behave  with  all  duty 
and  humility  to  Her  Majesty,  which,  if  she  would 
fail  to  do,  she  should  never  see  his  face  again." 

Lady  Castlemaine  had  no  desire  for  the  post  either 
because  of  its  honour  or  its  emoluments,  but  both 
she  and  Charles  wished  that  she  should  have  apart- 
ments in  the  Royal  household,  and  this  offered  the 
only  way  of  securing  them.  At  the  end  of  six  or  eight 
weeks  the  Queen  was  wearied  out  and,  to  the  surprise  of 
every  one,  she  voluntarily  addressed  Barbara  one  even- 
ing. This  broke  the  ice,  and  the  two  women  were 
from  that  time  outwardly  friends.  Charles  actually 
seemed  proud  of  going  about  like  an  Eastern  potentate 
with  two  wives  in  his  carriage.  Pepys  gives  us  a  pic- 
ture of  this,  as  well  as  of  the  Court  held  at  Somerset 
House  at  this  time  by  Henrietta  Maria,  who  was 
then  in  England.  This  was  during  the  first  week  in 
September  after  the  reconciliation,  and  is  very  ex- 
pressive, as  described  by  the  diarist,  not  only  of  the 
subjection  into  which  Catherine  had  been  thrown, 
but  of  the  indifference  of  public  opinion  : 

"  I  w^ent  into  the  Queen  Mother's  presence,  where 
she  was  with  our  Queen  sitting  on  her  left  hand, 
whom  I  never  did  see  before  ;  and  though  she  be 
not  very  charming,  yet  she  hath  a  good,  modest,  and 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  57 

innocent  look,  which  is  pleasing.  Here  I  also  saw 
Lady  Castlemaine,  and,  which  pleased  me  most, 
Mr.  Crofts,  the  King's  bastard,  a  most  pretty  spark 
of  about  fifteen  years  old,  also  do  hang  much  upon 
my  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  is  always  with  her,  and 
I  hear  the  Queens  are  both  mighty  kind  to  him.  By 
and  by  in  comes  the  King,  and  anon  the  Duke  and 
his  Duchess,  so  that,  they  being  all  together,  was 
such  a  sight  as  I  never  could  almost  have  happened 
to  see  with  so  much  ease  and  leisure.  They  stayed 
till  it  was  dark,  and  then  went  away  ;  the  King  and 
his  Queen  and  my  Lady  Castlemaine  and  young 
Crofts  in  one  coach,  and  the  rest  in  other  coaches." 

Pepys  generally  expressed  a  great  admiration  for 
Barbara,  and  a  fortnight  earlier  he  had  found  a  place 
among  many  others  on  the  top  of  the  Banqueting 
House  in  Whitehall  to  watch  the  young  Queen  arrive 
from  Hampton  Court.  Lady  Castlemaine  was  there, 
and  as  she  had  gone  up  from  her  apartment  in  the 
palace  she  was  without  her  hat.  Of  this  incident  Pepys 
writes :  "  Methought  it  was  strange  to  see  her  and  her 
lord  [Lord  Castlemaine]  upon  the  same  place,  walking 
up  and  down  without  taking  notice  of  one  another, 
only  at  first  entry  he  put  off  his  hat,  and  she  made 
him  a  very  civil  salute,  but  afterwards  took  no  notice 
one  of  another  ;  but  both  of  them  now  and  then 
would  take  their  child,  which  the  nurse  held  in  her 
arms,  and  dandle  it.  One  thing  more :  there  hap- 
pened a  scaffold  below  to  fall,  and  we  feared  some 
hurt ;  but  there  was  none,  but  she  of  all  the  great 
ladies  only  ran  down  among  the  common  rabble  to 
see  what  hurt  was  done,  and  did  take  care  of  a  child 
that  received  some  little  hurt,  which  methought  was 


58      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

noble.  Anon  there  came  one  there  booted  and  spurred, 
that  she  talked  long  with  ;  and  by  and  by,  she  being 
in  her  hair,  she  put  on  his  hat,  which  was  but  an 
ordinary  one,  to  keep  the  wind  off  ;  but  it  became 
her  mightily,  as  everything  else  do." 

Catherine  was  blamed  by  many  for  giving  way  to 
the  King's  wishes,  but  it  did  at  least  give  her  physical 
comfort  and  the  outward  respect  of  her  husband. 
She  now  knew  definitely  Charles's  character,  and  with 
that  knowledge  came  the  other,  that  she  would  have 
to  share  his  affections  all  her  life,  and  be  satisfied 
with  the  smaller  part.  Charles  still  seemed  to  feel  some 
shame,  for  he  treated  the  English  who  came  over 
with  his  wife  with  great  disfavour,  for  fear  that  they 
should  learn  too  much  as  to  how  he  behaved  and  tell 
it  to  the  Queen,  who,  however,  was  at  least  clever 
enough  to  know  more  than  they  could  tell  her. 

Though  there  was  no  expression  of  anger  at  Court 
at  the  laxity  which  obtained  there,  and  though  the 
genial  Pepys  took  all  the  little  incidents  which  he 
noted  as  ordinary  occurrences,  the  great  public 
began  to  gossip  and  lift  up  its  hands  in  horror. 
Stories  of  licence  and  debauchery  circulated,  and  the 
whisper  went  abroad  that  the  Countess  of  Castle- 
maine's  influence  increased  so  that  she  was  greater 
than  the  Queen,  though  Charles  was  said  to  show 
kindness  to  his  wife.  It  was  through  Barbara  that 
Sir  Harry  Bennet  (Lord  Arlington)  and  Sir  Charles 
Berkeley  (Lord  Falmouth)  became  so  intimate  with 
the  King  ;  history  has  condemned  both  men  for  their 
fast  lives,  such  lives  as  would  make  Charles  but  love 
them  more.  Lady  Castlemaine  herself  was  accused  of 
having  intrigues  with  these  gentlemen,  and  for  some 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  59 

reason  of  her  own  did  her  best  to  attract  young 
Crofts,  the  fifteen-year-old  son  of  Charles. 

This  boy  was  extremely  handsome,  and  it  is  said 
that  his  very  appearance  raised  the  demon  of  jealousy 
in  this  extraordinary  woman,  because  compared  with 
him  her  own  children  "  were  like  so  many  puppets." 
The  King  only  laughed  at  her,  and  then  she  deter- 
mined to  gratify  her  resentment  for  this  irreparable 
injury  by  pretending  to  take  the  lad  under  her  care. 
She  "  mothered  "  him  publicly,  let  him  lead  her  out 
in  the  dance,  and  caressed  him  with  an  ever-increasing 
ardour.  Gramont  says  that  Charles  felt  no  jealousy 
of  her,  but  he  very  judiciously  removed  his  son  from 
danger  by  marrying  him  with  great  brilliancy  and 
rejoicing  to  little  Anne  Scott,  Countess  of  Buccleuch 
and  owner  of  ^10,000  a  year.  To  fit  him  for  this 
honour  Crofts  was  made  Duke  of  Monmouth  in 
February,  1663. 

Pepys  is  the  authority  for  the  statement  that  at 
this  time  Barbara  was  carrying  on  intrigues  both  with 
Bennet  and  Berkeley.  "  Captain  Ferrers  and  Mr. 
Howe  both  have  often,  through  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine's  window,  seen  her  go  to  bed,  and  Sir  Charles 
Berkeley  in  the  chamber."  It  is  necessary  to  remem- 
ber that  Pepys  repeated  every  scrap  of  gossip  that  he 
heard,  that  he  made,  and  professed  to  make,  no  in- 
quiry into  the  truth  of  things — he  simply  wrote  down 
what  some  one  told  him.  This  should  be  kept  in 
mind  when  considering  what  he  says  of  the  fair  Frances 
Stuart,  whose  life  at  Court  was  at  first  much  inter- 
twined with  that  of  Lady  Castlemaine. 

In  spite  of  the  whispers  about  Barbara's  actions, 
which   of   course   may   not   have   reached   the   King, 


6o     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Charles  showed  her  more  attention  than  ever,  supping 
with  her  four  times  a  week,  most  often  staying  till  the 
morning  and  going  home  through  the  garden  alone 
privately,  so  that  even  the  sentries  made  jests  about 
him.  There  is  one  story  which  shows  more  plainly 
than  anything  how  great  was  her  power  over  the 
King  at  this  time.  She  had  quarrelled  with  a  Lady 
Gerard,  who  on  January  4th,  1662-3,  had  prepared 
a  state  supper  for  the  King  and  Queen.  When  every 
one  was  assembled  and  the  tables  were  ready  the 
King  withdrew  from  the  party  and  went  to  the  house 
of  Lady  Castlemaine,  where  he  remained  all  through 
the  evening.  It  is  suggested  that  in  this  rude  action 
he  was  obeying  orders  which  he  had  received  earlier, 
and  it  may  well  be  imagined  that  the  incident  did 
not  make  Lady  Gerard  love  the  King's  mistress.  A 
month  or  so  later  Lady  Gerard  made  some  remark  to 
the  Queen  about  Barbara,  which  the  usual  unfailing 
kind  friend  who  was  present  repeated  to  the  King, 
with  the  result  that  at  a  ball  Charles  invited  Lady 
Gerard  to  dance  with  him,  severely  told  her  what  he 
thought,  and  forbade  her  to  attend  upon  his  wife  in 
future. 

The  name  of  Colonel  James  Hamilton  was  also 
linked  with  that  of  Barbara,  and  by  this  time  the  man 
in  the  street  was  fully  alive  to  the  character  of  the 
mattresse  en  titre^  as  she  was  called.  Lampoons  and 
squibs  were  published  and  sung  about  her,  being  fast- 
ened to  doors,  or  in  public  places.  This  so  much 
angered  Charles  that  he  seriously  thought  of  shutting 
up  the  coffee-houses,  which  were  then  the  centre  of 
all  gossip.  At  Merton  College,  Oxford,  where  one  of 
Barbara's  children  was  born  on  December  28th,  1665, 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  6i 

the  songs  in  the  streets  were  of  her  and  the  King,  and 
how  the  latter  could  not  leave  Oxford  until  she  was 
ready  to  accompany  him,  and  a  very  plainly  expressed 
couplet,  done  in  Latin,  it  is  true,  was  found  one 
morning  tacked  to  the  door  of  her  lodgings. 

Barbara  carried  her  determination  to  have  her  own 
way  into  everything  ;  if  she  found  cause  to  dislike  a 
statesman  or  minister  she  also  found  means  to  get  rid 
of  him ;  the  old  tried  loyalist,  Sir  Edward  Nicholas, 
was  superseded  in  the  secretaryship  by  Sir  H.  Bennet, 
in  1663,  and  she  conceived  from  the  first  a  hatred  of 
Clarendon,  who  would  never  allow  anything  to  pass 
the  seal  in  which  she  was  named,  just  as  the  Earl  of 
Southampton  would  not  suffer  her  name  to  be  entered 
in  the  Treasury  books ;  thus  it  was  in  her  rooms  that 
the  plot  against  Clarendon,  which  led  to  his  downfall, 
was  hatched.  There  met  Buckingham,  Arlington, 
Clifford,  Ashley,  and  Lauderdale  in  the  cabal  which, 
by  a  "  whimsical  coincidence,"  as  Macaulay  says,  on 
this  occasion  formed  an  anagram  on  their  names. 
These  men  suffered  many  checks  in  their  purpose  of 
dismissing  all  the  tried,  experienced,  honest  councillors 
of  the  King,  and  for  a  long  time  the  King  himself 
withstood  them.  When  Barbara  was  too  insistent  he 
once  thoroughly  lost  his  temper,  telling  her  that  "  she 
was  a  jade  that  meddled  with  things  which  she  had 
nothing  at  all  to  do  with." 

Ormond  sometimes  foiled  her  schemes  for  raising 
money,  for  she  was  a  rapacious  place-seller  ;  she  put 
her  extravagant  purchases  down  to  the  Privy  purse, 
and  drew  large  sums  from  the  Irish  Treasury.  On 
one  occasion  when  he  refused  to  sanction  another 
draft  on  Ireland  she  reviled  him,  swore  at  him,  and 


62      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

said  she  should  like  to  see  him  hanged.  To  which  the 
Duke  responded  quietly  that,  far  from  wishing  to  see 
her  ladyship's  days  shortened  in  return,  his  greatest 
desire  was  to  see  her  grow  old.  When  the  Chancellor 
once  refused  to  verify  some  grant  of  a  place  which 
Lady  Castlemaine  had  made  he  uttered  the  remark 
that  that  woman  would  sell  everything.  This,  of 
course,  was  repeated  to  her,  upon  which  she  sent  him 
the  message  "  that  she  had  disposed  of  the  place,  and 
did  not  doubt  in  time  to  dispose  of  his,"  a  promise 
which  she  kept. 

As  the  months  rolled  on  Charles  grew  very  tired 
of  this  woman,  who,  however  much  her  bold 
beauty  might  at  one  time  have  fascinated  his  eye, 
made  his  life  alternately  a  burden  with  her  wild 
tempers  and  a  game  with  her  high  spirits.  We  hear 
of  her  and  Charles  chasing  a  moth  about  a  room  with 
all  the  ardour  of  schoolboys,  and  at  another  time 
quarrelling  fiercely.  At  one  date  a  diarist  utters  a 
word  of  pleasure  that  Castlemaine  is  out  of  favour, 
and  a  fortnight  later  says  calmly  that  she  entirely 
rules  the  King.  But  at  the  end  of  1662  there  came 
to  Court  a  girl  who  was  destined  to  give  Barbara,  Lady 
Castlemaine,  a  fairly  unquiet  time. 

Barbara  was  the  first  to  secure  His  Majesty's  favour 
after  his  accession,  but  she  was  by  no  means  the  last,  and 
though  she  kept  her  supremacy  for  ten  years,  she  only 
did  so  by  a  continuous  struggle.  The  other  women 
who  perceptibly  affected  Charles's  Hfe  were  Frances 
Stuart,  Louise  de  Keroualle,  and,  in  a  lesser  degree, 
Nell  Gwyn  ;  and  it  was  the  first-named  of  these  who 
proved  the  first  formidable  rival  to  Barbara's  influence. 

Frances  Teresa  Stuart  was  born  in  1648,  being  the 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  63 

daughter  of  Walter  Stuart  and  grand-daughter  of  the 
first  Lord  Blantyre.  Her  father,  with  his  family, 
took  refuge  in  France  in  1649,  and  was  attached  to 
the  household  of  Henrietta  Maria ;  thus  she  was 
educated  in  France,  and  if  she  did  not  become  very 
learned,  she  was  at  least  taught  how  to  set  off  her 
pretty  face  to  the  greatest  advantage.  When  she  was 
thirteen  or  fourteen  the  question  of  her  future  arose, 
and  Louis  XIV  was  anxious  that  she  should  stay  to 
ornament  his  Court ;  however,  the  Queen-Mother  of 
England  thought  otherwise,  and  sent  her  to  England, 
with  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Charles  H.  So  a  fare- 
well present  from  Louis  terminated  the  girl's  relations 
with  the  French  Court.  At  the  New  Year  of  1662-3, 
when  she  was  not  fifteen  years  old,  Frances  was  ap- 
pointed maid  of  honour  to  Queen  Catherine,  and  at 
once  stepped  into  that  neglected  lady's  good  graces. 

Though  girls  were  married  at  an  absurdly  early  age 
at  that  time,  and  indeed  for  two  hundred  years  later, 
they  remained  girl-wives,  being  no  more  matured  than 
our  schoolgirls  to-day ;  and  at  this  date  Frances, 
though  regarded  by  the  various  historians  as  of  marri- 
ageable age,  was  only  a  pretty,  lanky,  ungrown  girl, 
ready  to  respond  to  any  kindness  shown  her,  and  to 
be  friends  with  every  one.  What  Lady  Castlemaine 
thought  w^hen  she  first  saw  her  no  one  knows ;  what 
she  did  was  to  try  to  attract  the  child  to  her  side,  as 
she  tried  to  attract  young  Crofts,  and  at  first  she  was 
very  successful.  Frances  had  only  been  at  Court  a 
month  when  a  foolish  frolic  is  reported  between  the 
two.  Barbara  invited  the  girl  to  an  entertainment, 
and  in  the  midst  of  it  insisted  that  they  loved  each 
other  so  much  that  only  marriage  would  meet  the 


64     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

case.  So  all  the  accessories  to  a  church  marriage  were 
collected  and  a  ring  slipped  on  the  slim  finger.  Then 
came  the  coarser  ceremonies,  made  possible  by  custom, 
the  decking  with  ribbons,  the  procession  to  the  bed- 
room, and  undressing  the  bride,  flinging  the  stocking 
for  luck,  and  administering  a  sack  posset  in  bed.  Such 
a  piece  of  childish  nonsense  was  natural  enough  to 
Frances,  and  perhaps  to  Barbara  as  well,  for  the  latter 
was  quite  a  young  woman  and  easily  amused  with  small 
things.  But  the  older  and  over-wise  courtiers  saw 
more  in  it  than  a  whim ;  they  took  into  account  neither 
the  age  of  the  new  maid,  nor  the  rampant  jealousy  of 
Barbara's  character,  but  gravely  asserted  that  the 
amusement  had  an  ulterior  motive,  in  that  Lady 
Castlemaine,  after  retiring  to  bed,  gave  up  her  place 
to  the  King.  Taking  into  consideration  the  fiery 
temper  and  extremely  jealous  disposition  of  that  lady 
this  was  an  absurd  rumour.  Barbara  simply  could 
not  have  lent  herself  to  such  a  scheme  for  her 
own  discomfiture.  If  there  was  design  in  what  she 
did,  it  was  not  that  of  giving  herself  a  rival,  but  of 
bhnding  the  King  to  the  fact  that  he  had  a  rival  in 
her  affections. 

Barbara  was  at  this  time  starting  her  intrigue  with 
Henry  Jermyn,  Lord  Dover,  which  was  to  lead  to  so 
many  wordy  conflicts  with  her  master.  From  all  that 
one  hears  of  Jermyn  he  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the 
greatest  rakes  of  the  Restoration,  though  really  the 
worst  thing  about  him  for  his  reputation's  sake  was 
his  appearance.  Had  he  been  tall,  handsome,  and  a 
favourite  with  men,  he  would  not,  in  those  days,  have 
seemed  so  despicable  as  popular  opinion  held  him  to 
be.     He  was,  however,  short,  with  a  large  head  and 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  6$ 

little  legs — a  failing  which  neither  man  nor  woman 
overlooks — full  of  conceit,  and  boasting  that  not  a 
woman  in  the  world  could  resist  him.  Report  had 
already  made  him  the  accepted  lover  of  Henrietta, 
Charles's  sister,  and  of  every  coquettish  lady  about 
the  Court  ;  so  when  Barbara  showed  him  marked 
kindness,  he  languidly  determined  to  respond  to  her 
advances.  Charles  began  to  be  suspicious  and  angrily 
resented  the  gossip  which  indicated  that  he  had  such  a 
pigmy  opposed  to  him ;  thus  to  deceive  him  Barbara 
took  Frances  to  her  heart,  and  when  Charles  paid  his 
morning  visit  to  her  room  he  often  found  the  pretty 
child  lying  by  her  side. 

These  early  calls  may  well  seem  strange  and  im- 
proper to  us,  but  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries  it  was  no  uncommon  custom.  The  lazy 
Beauty  drank  her  chocolate  in  bed,  and  partly  made  her 
toilet,  and  the  gallant  who  was  energetic  made  a  good- 
morning  call,  finding  the  lady  in  bed,  or  under  the 
hands  of  the  hairdresser,  with  her  dressing  woman,  or 
women,  about.  Towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  the  fop  would  have  himself  curled  and 
scented  and  his  locks  artistically  arranged  on  the 
pillow  before  he  received  the  visits  of  his  friends. 

Barbara  was  playing  a  dangerous  game,  of  which 
she  only  realized  one  side.  Most  people  would 
have  seen  the  other  side  first,  for  it  was  inevitable 
that  in  such  circumstances  Charles  should  fall  in  love 
with  Frances.  She  should  have  been  far  too  childish 
to  be  touched  by  his  attentions,  but  her  bringing-up 
had  been  extremely  worldly,  and  infant  as  she  was  she 
had  no  desire  to  give  something  for  nothing. 

Both  Barbara  and  Charles  became  irritable  and  sus- 


66      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

picious :  each  was  trying  to  fascinate  an  outsider 
while  wishing  to  keep  the  loyalty  of  each  other. 
Quarrels  grew  frequent,  and  it  was  after  one 
such  that  to  pacify  her  the  King  gave  her  all  the 
Christmas  presents  which  had  been  bestowed  upon 
him  by  his  peers  and  friends  ;  and  we  learn  that 
at  the  great  New  Year's  ball  she  was  richer  in  jewels 
than  the  Queen  and  the  Duchess  of  York  together. 
The  King  certainly  tried  to  keep  up  his  idea  of  ap- 
pearances, for  he  took  Barbara  to  the  play,  and  acknow- 
ledged her  presence  always  in  public.  "  At  the  Park 
was  the  King,  and  in  another  coach  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine,  they  greeting  one  another  at  every  turn." 

Barbara  had  schemed  until  she  had  secured  rooms 
in  Whitehall  near  the  King's  chamber,  and  by  May, 
1663,  had  become  a  person  to  be  feared  and  hated 
by  the  King's  advisers,  as  well  as  a  byword  among 
the  people.  "  The  King  do  mind  nothing  but  plea- 
sures and  hates  the  very  sight  and  thought  of  business. 
My  Lady  Castlemaine  rules  him  who,  he  sees,  hath 
all  the  tricks  of  Aretin.  If  any  of  the  sober  counsellors 
give  him  good  advice  and  move  him  in  anything  that 
is  to  his  good  and  honour,  the  other  part,  which  are 
his  counsellors  of  pleasure,  take  him  when  he  is  with 
Lady  Castlemaine,  and  in  the  humour  of  delight  then 
persuade  him  that  he  ought  not  to  hear  nor  listen 
to  the  advice  of  those  old  dotards,  etc."  Thus  says 
that  true  registrar  of  public  sentiment,  Pepys. 

In  April,  1663,  he  writes :  "  I  did  hear  that  the 
Queen  is  much  grieved  at  the  King's  neglecting  her, 
he  not  having  supped  once  with  her  this  quarter  of  a 
year,  and  almost  every  night  with  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine, who  hath  been  with  him  this  St.  George's  feast 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  6-] 

2X  Windsor,  and  come  home  with  him  last  night ;  and, 
which  is  more,  they  say  is  removed  as  to  her  bed  from 
her  own  home  to  a  chamber  in  White  Hall,  next  to 
the  King's  own  ;  which  I  am  sorry  to  hear,  though  I 
love  her  much." 

Frances  Stuart  went  on  with  her  growing  sufficiently 
to  be  called  "  a  fine  woman  "  a  few  months  after  her 
arrival,  but  Gramont's  description  of  her  at  that  time 
is  perhaps  the  best  for  indicating  what  she  was  really 
like.  "  Her  figure  [general  appearance]  was  more  showy 
than  engaging  ;  it  was  hardly  possible  for  a  woman 
to  have  less  wit  or  more  beauty  :  all  her  features 
were  fine  and  regular,  but  her  shape  was  not  good  : 
yet  she  was  slender,  straight  enough,  and  taller  than 
the  generality  of  women  ;  she  was  very  graceful, 
danced  well,  and  spoke  French  better  than  her  mother 
tongue  :  she  was  well  bred,  and  possessed,  in  perfec- 
tion, that  air  of  dress  which  is  so  much  admired,  and 
which  cannot  be  attained,  unless  it  be  taken,  when 
young,  in  France.  While  her  charms  were  gaining 
ground  in  the  King's  heart,  the  Countess  of  Castle- 
maine  amused  herself  in  the  gratification  of  all  her 
caprices." 

By  June  we  find  Pepys  sorrowing  over  Lady  Castle- 
maine  as  not  being  as  handsome  as  he  had  taken  her 
for ;  he  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  she  begins 
to  decay  somewhat,  "  for  which  I  am  very  sorry !  " 
It  may  be  that  when  Barbara  found  herself  supplanted 
it  told  so  much  upon  her  spirits  and  temper  that  her 
face  lost  its  charm,  and  there  are  many  proofs  of 
this. 

That  the  King  fell  in  love  with  other  women 
did  not  make  him  an  altogether  indifferent  husband  ; 


68      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

he  rode  and  drove  with  the  Queen,  and  always  gave 
her  all  deference  in  public.  We  have  a  word  picture 
of  him  riding  with  her  hand-in-hand  from  the  Park, 
she  wearing  a  white-laced  waistcoat  and  a  crimson, 
short  petticoat,  and  her  hair  dressed  d  la  negligence^ 
"  mighty  pretty."  Following  them  came  Lady 
Castlemaine,  among  the  other  ladies,  with  an  air  of 
aloofness  about  her,  no  one  noticing  her  and  no 
gallants  pressing  forward  in  rivalry  to  help  her  down 
from  her  horse,  so  that  her  own  gentleman  had  to 
assist  her.  Among  them  also  was  Frances  Stuart, 
looking  very  charming  "  with  her  hat  cocked  and  a  red 
plume,  with  her  sweet  eye,  little  Roman  nose,  and 
excellent  taille  ;  the  greatest  beauty  [says  Pepys]  I 
ever  saw,  I  think,  in  my  life  ;  and  if  ever  woman  can, 
do  exceed  Lady  Castlemaine,  at  least  in  this  dress." 

Barbara  seemed  to  lose  her  temper  with  every  one 
by  turns  just  now.  As  soon  as  Frances  Stuart  under- 
stood the  favourite's  friendship,  and  as  soon  as  the 
latter  understood  that  the  King  had  fallen  in  love  with 
Frances,  there  was  a  battle  royal  between  them,  and 
the  girl  stood  upon  her  dignity  as  primly  as  Barbara 
depended  upon  her  temper.  The  former's  maids  and 
the  latter's  nursemaids  joined  in  the  quarrel,  so  that 
they  could  not  meet  without  reviling  each  other  and 
each  other's  mistresses,  with  the  result  that  the  King 
himself  had  more  than  once  to  be  called  upon  the 
scene  to  quiet  them,  much  to  the  amusement  of  his 
courtiers.  The  Queen  came  in  for  some  of  Lady 
Castlemaine's  ill-humour,  but  she  was  weary  of  the 
loud-voiced  virago,  and  answered  her  with  quiet 
disdain.  Coming  into  Catherine's  room  one  day 
when  the  long  process  of  dressing  was  being  accom- 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  69 

plished,  Lady  Castlemaine  cried  pettishly,  "  Really, 
I  wonder  how  Your  Majesty  can  have  the  patience  to 
sit  so  long  a-dressing  !  "  "I  have  so  much  reason  to 
use  patience  that  I  can  very  well  bear  with  it,"  re- 
plied the  Queen  significantly.  One  day  the  King  said 
something  that  Barbara  did  not  like,  and  in  a  raised 
voice  she  vowed  she  would  leave  the  palace  and  never 
return.  At  once  she  set  about  collecting  her  belong- 
ings and  servants,  and  took  them  all  off  to  Richmond. 
This  should  have  made  Charles  happy,  and  perhaps 
had  Frances  Stuart  been  readier  to  encourage  his 
attentions  it  might  have  done  so.  As  it  was,  his 
thoughts  went  repeatedly  to  Castlemaine,  and  two 
days  after  her  departure  he  went  hunting  near  Rich- 
mond, called  to  see  her,  and  tried  to  patch  up  the 
quarrel,  whereupon  she  vowed  that  she  would  not 
forgive  him  unless  he  begged  her  on  his  knees  ;  so 
eventually  the  King  knelt  and  said  what  she  wished, 
and  the  next  day  she  was  back  at  Whitehall,  to  the 
disappointment  of  most  of  its  inhabitants.  But 
Charles  was  still  further  under  her  thumb,  and  meekly 
carried  out  her  orders,  letting  her  have  and  do  just 
what  she  would.  Even  if  she  thought  she  wanted  the 
King  when  he  was  in  the  Council  Room,  she  had  no 
hesitation  in  sending  Sir  Charles  Berkeley  for  him, 
and  His  Majesty  came  at  her  word. 

Yet  this  meek  monarch  was  becoming  more  infatu- 
ated with  little  Stuart  every  day.  From  his  pertinacity, 
the  trouble  he  showed,  and  the  persuasions  he  used, 
it  is  probable  that  this  was  the  nearest  he  ever  got  to 
the  reality  of  love,  and  it  was  the  one  case  in  which  he 
was  to  be  disappointed.  Frances  Stuart  has  been 
censured  by  her  historians  for  loving  childish  amuse- 


70      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

ments,  such  as  blind-man's  buff  and  card  castles. 
"  She  only  wanted  a  doll  to  make  her  entirely  a  child," 
says  Gramont.  None  of  them  seems  to  have  realized 
that  she  was  at  the  very  age  when  a  healthy  girl  loves 
active  play  whether  indoors  or  out,  that,  in  fact,  she 
was  a  child.  The  remarkable  thing  was  that  grave 
courtiers  and  roues  as  well  as  the  King  should  succumb 
to  the  fascinations  of  a  careless  girl  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen,  should  compete  with  her  in  building  houses 
of  cards,  or  even  be  ready  happily  to  stand  by  her  side 
handing  the  cards  as  she  needed  them.  She  was  un- 
affected, amused  at  everything,  and  laughed  lightly 
at  them  all. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  held  her  regard  for  a 
time,  for  he  could  build  the  finest  tower  of  cards 
imaginable,  and  he  had  a  pleasant  voice ;  besides, 
"  he  was  the  father  and  mother  of  scandal,"  and  little 
Miss  Stuart  had  lived  too  long  in  a  scandal-loving 
society  to  object  to  listen  to  his  amusing  stories. 
The  Duke  was  one  of  those  versatile,  volatile  men  who 
are  always  having  a  new  idea  about  something,  and 
seeing  how  enamoured  the  King  was  with  Frances, 
he  imagined  that  to  get  an  ascendancy  over  her  was 
to  have  influence  indirectly  with  the  King.  But  he 
did  not  allow  for  her  youth.  She  pealed  with  laughter 
at  his  stories,  sang  songs  with  him,  competed  in  card- 
building,  and  if  he  absented  himself  when  she  wanted 
him  would  send  all  over  the  town  to  find  him  ;  but 
as  soon  as  he  became  serious,  as  soon  as  she  realized 
that  he,  a  married  man,  was  suggesting  impossible 
things  to  her,  he  met  with  so  severe  a  repulse  that 
he  abandoned  at  once  all  his  designs  upon  her. 
However,  he  had  to  some  extent  gained  his  end,  for 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  71 

he  had  come  to  something  like  famiharity  with  the 
King. 

A  courtier  who  appears  again  and  again  in  these 
short  memoirs  is  Sir  Henry  Bennet,  who,  with  Charles 
Berkeley,  was  raised  to  the  King's  favour  by  Barbara. 
Berkeley  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  the  honours  thrust 
upon  him,  but  Bennet,  under  the  title  of  Earl  of  Ar- 
lington, became  principal  Secretary  of  State  and  Lord 
Chamberlain.  He  was  a  timid,  underhand  sort  of  man, 
with  no  genius,  yet  with  a  useful  experience  of  State 
affairs,  which  kept  him  in  office  when  more  honest 
men  were  in  disfavour,  a  man  of  whom  public  opinion, 
voiced  by  Pepys,  said  very  hard  things.  In  a  diplomatic 
affair  abroad  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  Spanish  gravity, 
and  ever  after  cultivated  a  serious  air  and  profound 
manner,  which  Gramont  says  was  accentuated  by 
a  plaster  of  a  lozenge  shape,  which,  fixed  across  his 
nose  over  an  old  scar,  added  to  his  mysterious  looks. 
Lord  Arlington  was,  like  so  many  other  men,  attracted 
by  the  grace  and  beauty  of  Frances  Stuart,  and  at 
last  determined  to  wait  upon  her  with  the  idea  of 
offering  her  his  humble  service  and  best  advice  as  to 
how  to  conduct  herself  in  her  new  post.  The  girl 
received  him  kindly,  and  listened  to  the  somewhat 
pompous  preface  to  his  explanation  of  his  visit. 
Suddenly,  as  she  listened,  there  entered  her  mind 
some  words  and  descriptions  of  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham's, in  which  this  man  was  caricatured.  The 
memory  was  too  much  for  her  when  aided  by  Arling- 
ton's solemn  air,  sedate  manner,  and  the  patch,  and 
suddenly  she  broke  into  laughter,  all  the  more  violent 
and  long  because  she  had  struggled  to  restrain  it.  The 
Earl  ceased  speaking,  stared  at  her  for  a  moment. 


72      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

then  abruptly  left  the  room,  wasting  all  the  fine  advice 
he  had  meant  to  bestow  upon  her.  He  was  in  such  a 
rage  that  he  thought  of  going  to  Lady  Castlemaine 
and  joining  her  faction,  or  of  quitting  the  Court 
party  and  proposing  an  Act  in  Parliament  to  forbid 
the  King  having  mistresses — but  he  ended  by  going 
to  Holland  and  there  getting  a  wife. 

James  Hamilton,  the  eldest  of  the  brothers  Hamil- 
ton, the  best-dressed  man  at  Court,  the  best  dancer 
and  the  most  general  lover,  at  one  time  desired  the 
hand  of  the  little  maid  of  honour,  but  she  laughed  at 
him  as  at  all  others,  scarcely  realizing  that  he  was 
serious  in  his  aims,  a  fact  which  he  himself  soon  forgot. 
Francis  Digby,  Lord  Bristol's  son,  was  later  the  victim 
of  a  real  honest  love  for  the  girl,  and  because  she 
would  not  accept  him  it  was  said  that  he  flung  away 
the  life  that  he  no  longer  valued  in  the  great  sea  fight 
with  the  Dutch  in  1672.  If  that  was  so  he  had  been 
some  years  making  up  his  mind,  as  Frances  married 
in  1667. 

All  through  this  spring  and  summer  of  1663  Frances 
Stuart  lived  her  giddy,  half-girlish,  half -grown-up  life 
at  Court,  accepting  all  the  attention  offered  her, 
refusing  all  serious  proposals,  and  enjoying  herself 
mightily.  Lady  Castlemaine  was  not  so  happy  ;  one 
day  she  was  all  in  evidence  at  Court,  the  next  some 
slighting  word  drove  her  to  sulk  in  her  own  house  ; 
she  was  made  much  of  by  some,  snubbed  by  others. 
One  night  her  cousin,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  gave  an 
entertainment  to  the  King  and  Queen,  to  which  they 
did  not  invite  Barbara.  "  Much  good  may  it  do 
them,"  she  said,  with  a  shrug  ;  "  and  for  all  that  I  will 
be  as   merry  as   they."     So  she  went   home,   had   a 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  73 

great  supper  laid,  and  sat  down  to  wait,  knowing  that 
the  King  would  sympathize  with  her  at  the  slight. 
And,  in  fact,  on  leaving  the  Duke's  house  he  came 
straight  to  Barbara,  and  remained  until  the  next 
morning.  Following  this,  she  would  make  some 
exorbitant  demand,  or  publicly  show  her  liking  of 
Jermyn,  upon  which  there  would  be  a  fierce  and 
somewhat  one-sided  quarrel  with  the  King,  she  cursing 
and  shouting,  like  the  termagant  that  she  was,  and 
flouncing  out  of  the  palace. 

The  third  person  to  be  considered  at  this  time 
was  the  Queen,  the  lonely,  brave  little  woman  who, 
after  the  first  shock  when  she  learned  what  her 
married  life  entailed,  hid  her  unhappiness  from 
others,  grew  brisk  and  debonair,  won  from  her  errant 
husband  the  opinion  that  she  was  the  best  woman 
in  the  world,  and  even  raised  the  hope  among  the 
people  that  she  would  triumph  over  Castlemaine. 
In  October  she  fell  very  ill  of  some  fever  ;  one  wonders 
how  much  it  was  brought  on  by  her  unnatural 
life  of  repression,  and  by  another  worry  of  which  no 
one  had  guessed  until  delirium  gave  it  word. 

Her  illness  was  so  long  and  so  serious  that  every 
one  believed  she  would  die.  Pigeons  were  applied  to 
the  soles  of  her  feet — how  mad  were  the  prescribed 
nostrums  of  that  day  ! — and  Extreme  Unction  was 
administered.  All  the  Court,  however,  became  very 
deferential  to  Frances  Stuart,  believing  that  the  King's 
passion  for  her  was  so  sincere  that  it  would  raise 
her  to  the  throne  on  the  Queen's  death.  The  little 
Stuart's  heart  beat  with  unusual  violence,  and  the 
Duke  of  York's  friends  prayed  with  more  than  ordinary 
fervour  for  "  the  Queen  and  all  the  Royal  family." 


74      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

With  all  his  faults,  however,  Charles  could  not  bear 
to  see  suffering,  and  his  wife's  illness  called  out  all  that 
was  best  in  his  nature.  He  sat  by  her  bed,  held  her 
hand,  soothed  her  when  she  raved,  and  took  her 
condition  so  much  to  heart  that  he  wept  over  her, 
and  when  she  said  that  she  willingly  left  all  the 
world  but  him,  he  begged  her  to  live  for  his  sake. 
As  she  lost  all  control  of  her  mind  her  talk  became 
pathetic  in  its  revelations.  She  thought  that  her 
illness  had  been  caused  by  the  birth  of  a  child,  and 
wondered  that  she  had  felt  no  pain,  and  said  it  was  a 
sore  trouble  that  her  boy  was  ugly.  "  No,"  said  the 
King,  "  it  is  a  very  pretty  boy."  "  Ah  !  if  it  be  like 
you,  it  is  a  fine  boy  indeed,  and  I  would  be  very  pleased 
with  it,"  was  her  answer.  Day  after  day  she  raved  of 
children,  thus  betraying  the  pain  which  she  must  have 
felt  at  her  childless  life.  She  had  three  children,  she 
said,  and  the  girl  was  very  like  her  husband  ;  and  on 
waking  from  a  sleep  her  first  words  were,  "  How  do 
the  children  ?  "  The  fever  gradually  left  her,  and 
the  fact  that  she  recovered  she  attributed  to  Charles's 
kind  words  and  care. 

To  relieve  his  mind  and  soothe  the  worry  under 
which  he  laboured,  Charles  went  every  night  of  his 
wife's  illness  to  sup  with  Lady  Castlemaine.  One 
tempestuous  evening  the  river  rose  and  flooded 
Barbara's  kitchen,  when  there  was  a  chine  of  beef  for 
supper,  and  the  cook  coming  to  tell  her  that  no  roasting 
could  be  done  that  night,  she  lost  her  temper,  crying, 
"  Zounds !  but  it  shall  be  roasted  if  you  have  to 
set  the  house  on  fire  to  do  it."  So  the  joint  was  taken 
next  door,  for  Lord  Sandwich's  cook  to  deal  with. 

Anxiety  about  the  Queen  being  allayed,  some  of 


BARBARA   VILLIERS  75 

Charles's  friends  entered  into  a  little  conspiracy  to 
induce  Frances  Stuart  to  give  the  King  his  way, 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  Lord  Arhng- 
ton,  and  Edward  Montague  forming  a  committee 
for  that  purpose.  However,  the  girl  was  no  fool, 
nor  was  she  self-proud  ;  she  was  what  Pepys  in  scarcely 
elegant  language  calls  "  a  cunning  slut,"  for  she  took 
counsel  with  Henrietta  Maria  and  with  her  own 
mother  as  soon  as  she  saw  something  strange  was 
premeditated,  and  so  "  all  the  plot  was  spoiled,  the 
committee  fallen  to  pieces  and  the  Duchess  [of 
Buckingham]  going  to  a  nunnery." 


CHAPTER    IV 

FRANCES   STUART,    DUCHESS   OF   RICHMOND 

"  The  picture  of  fair  Venus  that 
(For  which  men  say  the  goddess  sat) 
Was  lost,  till  Lely  from  your  look 
Again  that  glorious  image  took." 

Edmund  Waller. 

By  the  time  Frances  Stuart  had  been  nearly  a  year 
at  Court  she  must  have  been  hardened  to  all  its  ways, 
and  she  now  began  to  give  the  King  many  liberties 
and  much  encouragement.  He  neglected  Lady 
Castlemaine  altogether,  and,  to  use  a  word  much  in 
vogue,  he  doted  on  Miss  Stuart,  getting  into,  corners 
with  her,  and  kissing  her  before  all  his  little  world  ; 
and  she,  expecting  this  sort  o£  thing,  stayed  by  her- 
self, instead  of  mixing  with  the  others,  just  as  two 
years  earlier  Barbara  Palmer  had  done.  Charles  was 
still  kind  to  his  old  love,  but  evinced  no  such  fondness 
as  once  he  had  shown  her.  By  the  New  Year  the  King 
was  absolutely  besotted  ;  denial  had  not  before  been 
offered  him  and  it  raised  his  passion  to  white  heat. 
He  attended  to  no  business,  he  openly  neglected  the 
Queen,  whose  life  he  had  saved  so  recently  with  soft 
words,  and  he  cared  not  who  saw  him  at  his  love- 
making.  He  was  so  constantly  in  Miss  Stuart's  rooms 
that  it  was  usual  for  any  one  who  wished  to  see  him 
to  make  the  inquiry,  "  Is  the  King  above  or  below  ?  " 
which  was  to  say,  in  his  own  apartments  or  on  the 

76 


Frances  Sil^akt,  Ulciikss  of  Kichmom),  as  Diana 
{^.Aftcr  Le'y) 


[to    face    FAG-i   76 


FRANCES    STUART  77 

lower  floor,  where  Miss  Stuart  lodged.  Lady  Castle- 
maine  is  said  to  have  revenged  herself  for  this  by  en- 
couraging the  attentions  of  various  courtiers,  one  being 
Lord  Sandwich,  who  tried  to  carry  on  this  intrigue 
secretly,  so  that  he  would  lead  her  from  her  lodgings 
in  the  "  darkest  and  most  obscure  manner,"  and  leave 
her  at  the  entrance  to  the  Queen's  lodgings,  that  he 
might  be  the  least  observed. 

But  no  matter  what  happened  Barbara  refused  to 
take  second  place  in  public.  Pepys  was  at  the  theatre 
one  evening  when  she  and  the  King  were  there  and 
noticed  that  she  was  in  the  box  next  to  the  King's. 
In  the  middle  of  the  play  she  leaned  across  the  inter- 
vening ladies  and  called  the  King.  He  naturally  an- 
swered her,  and  a  whispered  conversation  took  place. 
Then  she  abruptly  rose  from  her  seat  and  entered 
Charles's  box  ;  there  not  being  much  room,  his  atten- 
dants did  what  they  could  to  make  way  for  her,  and 
she  came  to  the  front,  squeezed  herself  between  the 
King  and  the  Duke  of  York,  and  so  sat  out  the  play, 
"  which  put  the  King  and  everybody  out  of  counten- 
ance." 

It  was  in  July,  1664,  that  the  picture  of  Frances 
Stuart  was  painted,  in  the  Chair  Room  opening 
into  one  of  the  galleries  of  Whitehall.  Pepys,  who 
was  waiting  to  see  some  one,  watched  her  coming  out 
of  that  room  one  day  after  her  sitting,  and  he  says 
she  was  "  in  a  most  lovely  form  {tout  ensemble),  with 
her  hair  all  about  her  ears.  There  was  the  King  and 
twenty  more,  I  think,  standing  by  all  the  while,  and 
a  lovely  creature  she  in  the  dress  seemed  to  be."  She 
was  also  painted  by  Huysman  in  a  buff  doublet  like  a 
soldier. 


78      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

As  for  the  portraits  of  Lady  Castlemaine,  there  were 
at  least  five  full-length  ones  by  or  after  Lely,  one  as 
Mary  Magdalen,  and  seven  three-quarter  length,  of 
which  the  finest  is  represented  by  an  engraving  of  her 
as  Bellona  or  Minerva.  Wissing  and  Gascar  also  painted 
her,  and  her  biographer,  Steinman,  says  that  there  are 
thirty  different  engravings  of  her  pictures. 

Though  there  was  much  love-making  at  the  Court 
of  Charles  II  there  were  few  marriages,  for  the  King, 
like  Queen  Elizabeth,  did  not  like  to  see  the  fair  ones 
of  the  opposite  sex  become  independent  of  him  and 
all  his  ways,  causing  Lady  Castlemaine  to  remark, 
with  a  laugh,  that  her  own  little  daughter,  then  two 
years  old,  would  be  the  first  maid  in  the  Court  to  be 
married.  One  of  Charles's  good  points  v/as  his  love 
for  children  ;  it  is  said  that  he  would  go  to  Lady 
Castlemaine's  at  midnight  to  see  the  baby,  taking  it 
from  its  nurse's  arms  to  dance  it  about. 

During  these  days  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  was 
a  personage  at  the  English  Court,  though  banished 
from  that  of  his  master  Louis  for  paying  too  much 
attention  to  a  lady  favoured  by  that  monarch.  Having 
received  much  courtesy  from  Charles,  and  desiring 
to  show  his  appreciation  of  the  friendship  bestowed 
upon  him,  he  ordered  a  calash  to  be  built  in  Paris 
for  the  King  ;  something  newer  even  than  the  latest 
invention — that  of  glass  coaches,  which  had  not  so 
far  found  favour  with  Englishwomen — which  should 
partake  of  the  ancient  fashion  and  yet  be  preferable 
to  the  modern.  The  man  he  sent  for  it  returned 
with  "  the  most  elegant  and  magnificent  calash  that 
had  ever  been  seen,"  which  was  duly  presented  to 
the  King,  who  would  only  accept  it  on  the  condition 


FRANCES    STUART  79 

that  the  chevalier  would  not  refuse  another  favour 
from  him,  as  he  had  once  done  in  the  past.    All  the 
women  of  the  Court  admired  the  beautiful  carriage 
and  desired  to  use  it,   but  the  first  who  appeared 
publicly  in  it  were  the  Queen  and  the  Duchess  of 
York.    My  Lady  Castlemaine,  with  her  fine  breeding, 
thought  what  a  sorry  show  those  two  made  in  such  a 
magnificent  vehicle,  and  from  that  saw  how  splendidly 
it  would  set  off  her  own  handsome  figure  and  face  ; 
so  she  at  once  asked  the  King  to  lend  it  to  her  on  the 
first  fine  day  to  drive  in  the  Park.     The  mischievous 
Frances  was  determined  that  that  should  not  be  ;  any- 
thing should  happen  rather  than  that  her  rival  should 
snatch  such  a  favour  ;    so  she  set  herself  to  fascinate 
the  King  anew  and  to  persuade  him  to  lend  her  the 
carriage  first.     Charles  did  not  know  what  to  say  or 
do.     Each  lady  used  cajolery,  then  threats,  the  latter 
getting  of  a   more  and  more  intimate  nature.     As 
Lady  Castlemaine  expected  again  to  become  a  mother, 
she  played  upon  Charles's  paternal  love,  and  foretold 
mortal  illness  to  herself  and  babe  if  her  desire  were 
not  granted.     The  bold  and  quick-witted  girl,  how- 
ever, seized  her  moment :  she  threatened  that  never 
would  she  become  a  mother  if  her  request  were  refused. 
That    settled    the    matter,    for    such   a    prospect    of 
asceticism    did    not    meet    with    Charles's    approval. 
Frances  Stuart  rode  proudly  in  the  calash,  and  Lady 
Castlemaine  was  thrown  into  so  terrible  a  rage  that 
she  almost  brought  about  the  fulfilment  of  her  own 
prophecy.     It  settled  something  more  important  also, 
and  that  was  the  girl's  reputation,  for  it  was  generally 
believed  that  she  rewarded  Charles  in   the  way  he 
most  desired.     There  is,  however,  no  evidence  that 


8o      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

this  really  happened  beyond  a  line  in  the  Memoirs. 
Pepys  constantly  remarks  that  Mrs.  Stuart  is  said  to 
be  the  King's  mistress,  or  that  some  one  tells  him 
that  Charles  "  do  intrigue  with  her,"  but  this  old 
piece  of  news  crops  up  regularly  at  intervals  for  years, 
and  Pepys  ends  by  saying  that  Mrs.  Stuart  had  played 
a  very  worthy  part. 

The  fashion  of  choosing  valentines  was  very  popular 
at  that  time,  and  in  1664  Frances  chose  the  King  as 
her  valentine.  The  person  chosen  had  to  give  a 
present  to  the  woman  who  had  honoured  him,  and 
the  royal  gift  was  probably  the  pearl  necklace,  worth 
about  _£lioo,  which  Frances  afterwards  said  was  one 
of  the  few  presents  which  she  had  accepted  from 
Charles.  A  year  later  the  Duke  of  York  took  it  into 
his  head  to  believe  himself  terribly  in  love  with  Mrs. 
Stuart,  upon  which  she  declared  him  to  be  her  valen- 
tine, receiving  as  a  gift  a  jewel  which  was  valued  at 
^800.  She  received  an  annual  allowance  from  the 
Privy  purse  of  £joo  a  year  for  clothes,  and  took 
nothing  more.  So  considering  the  remarkable  way  in 
which  Lady  Castlemaine  secured  gifts  and  sums  of 
money — _^30,ooo  once  from  Charles — besides  an  in- 
come of  ;^4700  from  the  Post  Office,  large  grants 
from  the  Excise  and  Customs,  huge  "  rents  "  from 
place-holders,  grants  of  plate  from  the  "  jewel-house," 
and  an  enormous  income  from  the  sale  of  offices  and 
favours — there  is  no  proof  that  Miss  Stuart  had  placed 
herself  in  such  a  position  as  to  be  awarded  similar 
emoluments. 

Anthony  Hamilton,  the  writer  of  the  Chevalier 
Gramont's  Memoirs,  joined  the  glad  throng  of  Frances 
Stuart's  lovers,   and  obtained  her  friendship  by  an 


FRANCES    STUART  8i 

absurd  trick.  Gramont,  who  was  in  love  with  Hamil- 
ton's sister,  was  alarmed  to  see  not  only  that  Anthony 
was  deeper  in  love  than  was  consistent  with  his  for- 
tunes, but  that  "  that  inanimate  statue,  Miss  Stuart," 
attended  to  him  with  pleasure.  So  he  took  the  young 
man  to  task  and  pointed  out  the  danger  of  his  paying 
attentions  to  a  girl  "  on  whom  the  King  seems  every 
day  to  dote  with  increasing  fondness."  He  spoke 
with  so  much  effect  that  Hamilton  explained  how 
the  affair  had  begun,  and  undertook  to  break  it  off 
at  once.     Turning  to  Gramont,  he  said  : 

"  You  are  acquainted  with  all  her  childish  amuse- 
ments. The  old  Lord  Carlingford  was  at  her  apart- 
ment one  evening,  showing  her  how  to  hold  a  lighted 
wax  candle  in  her  mouth,  and  the  grand  secret  con- 
sisted in  keeping  the  burning  end  there  a  long  time 
without  its  being  extinguished.  I  have,  thank  God, 
a  pretty  large  mouth,  and,  in  order  to  outdo  her 
teacher,  I  took  two  candles  into  my  mouth  at  the 
same  time,  and  walked  three  times  round  the  room 
without  their  going  out.  Every  person  present  ad- 
judged me  the  prize  of  this  illustrious  experiment, 
and  Killigrew  maintained  that  nothing  but  a  lantern 
could  stand  in  competition  with  me.  Upon  this  she 
was  like  to  die  with  laughing  ;  and  thus  was  I  ad- 
mitted into  the  familiarity  of  her  amusements." 

Of  his  subsequent  friendship  with  the  fair  maid  of 
honour  Hamilton  has  much  to  say  which  reflected 
upon  her  good  sense  and  delicacy.  She  either  was 
what  gossip  was  very  ready  to  proclaim  her  to  be  or 
she  was  a  pretty  fool,  always  delighted  to  play  with 
fire  but  determined  never  to  be  burnt.  Hamilton 
supports  the  latter  view  by  saying  that  it  would  be 


82      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

easy  to  persuade  her  to  do  most  extraordinary 
things  "  without  ever  reflecting  upon  what  she  was 
doing." 

Other  writers  fully  bear  out  this  statement.  In 
a  despatch  to  Louis  from  one  of  his  emissaries  in 
England,  it  is  asserted  that  Frances  Stuart  "  had  a 
leg  so  admirably  shaped  that  an  ambassador,  on  arriv- 
ing in  England  and  calling  on  her,  begged  her  as  a 
favour  to  let  him  see  almost  up  to  her  knee,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  write  to  his  master  to  confirm  what  he 
had  heard  about  the  perfection  of  her  calf  and 
ankle." 

Gramont  also  tells  a  serio-comic  story  of  green 
stockings  which  is  worth  repeating.  As  has  already 
been  recorded,  the  Duke  of  York  paid  sufiicient  atten- 
tion to  Lady  Chesterfield  to  make  Lord  Chesterfield 
ill  with  jealousy.  The  man  fully  deserved  it  ;  he  had 
been  Barbara's  lover  until  the  Restoration,  and  in 
anger  at  her  liaison  with  the  King  he  had  married 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  As 
soon  as  she  was  his  wife  she  began  to  understand  the 
position  of  affairs ;  she  found  that  she  was  absolutely 
nothing  to  her  husband,  who  treated  her  with  in- 
difference and  coldness.  So  she  revenged  herself  by 
flirting  with  other  men,  and  as  soon  as  Chesterfield 
saw  her  surrounded  with  admirers  he  began  to  value 
her.  However,  she  had  been  so  deeply  wounded  that 
she  bade  him  go  his  way  while  she  went  hers.  One 
of  her  ways  was  to  amuse  herself  by  detaching  the 
Duke  of  York  from  his  amours,  and  she  was  soon 
quite  successful  in  making  him  think  himself  in  love 
with  her.  Chesterfield  noted  the  symptoms  and 
grew   mad   with   jealousy,   going   about   hunting   for 


FRANCES    STUART  83 

proofs  and  confiding  in  Hamilton,  who  also  was 
secretly  in  love  with  the  wilful  woman. 

It  may  not  be  easy  to  foresee  what  this  had  to  do 
with  Miss  Stuart's  stockings,  but  the  sequel  will  show. 
In  his  miserable  speculations  Chesterfield,  in  drawing 
together  his  proofs,  said  to  Count  Hamilton  :  "  Lady 
Chesterfield  is  amiable,  it  must  be  acknowledged  ;  but 
she  is  far  from  being  such  a  miracle  of  beauty  as  she 
supposes  herself  ;  )^ou  know  she  has  ugly  feet  ;  but 
perhaps  you  are  not  acquainted  that  she  has  still 
worse  legs.  They  are  short  and  thick  ;  and,  to  remedy 
these  defects  as  much  as  possible,  she  seldom  wears 
any  other  than  green  stockings. 

"  I  went  yesterday  to  Miss  Stuart's,  after  the  audi- 
ence of  those  damned  Muscovites  ;  the  King  arrived 
there  just  before  me;  and  as  if  the  Duke  had  sworn 
to  pursue  me  wherever  I  went  that  day,  he  came  in 
just  after  me.  The  conversation  turned  upon  the 
extraordinary  appearance  of  the  ambassadors.  I  know 
not  where  that  fool  Crofts  had  heard  all  these  Mus- 
covites had  handsome  wives ;  and  that  all  their  wives 
had  handsome  legs.  Upon  this  the  King  maintained 
that  no  woman  ever  had  such  handsome  legs  as  Miss 
Stuart ;  and  she,  to  prove  the  truth  of  His  Majesty's 
assertion,  with  the  greatest  imaginable  ease  immedi- 
ately showed  her  leg  above  the  knee.  Some  were 
ready  to  prostrate  themselves  in  order  to  adore  its 
beauty  ;  for  indeed  none  can  be  handsomer  ;  but 
the*Duke  alone  began  to  criticize.  He  contended  that 
it  was  too  slender,  and  that  as  for  himself  he  would 
give  nothing  for  a  leg  which  was  not  thicker  and 
shorter,  and  concluded  by  saying,  that  no  leg  was 
worth  anything  without  green  stockings ;   now  this,  in 


84      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

my  opinion,  was  a  sufficient  demonstration  that  he 
had  just  seen  green  stockings,  and  had  them  fresh  in 
his  remembrance." 

Poor  Lady  Green  Stockings !  She  expiated  her  sins 
in  the  heart  of  the  country,  with  her  suspicious  hus- 
band as  her  constant  companion,  and  died  in  a  few 
years.  As  for  the  irresponsible  Frances  Stuart,  who 
was  then  sixteen  or  seventeen,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  there  were  those  who  questioned  her  propriety. 

Among  the  other  men  who  loved  Frances  Stuart 
was  Philip  Roettiers,  celebrated  as  a  medallist,  who 
came  to  England  to  make  the  Peace  of  Breda  medal 
in  1667.  Upon  it  La  Belle  Stuart  figures  as  Britannia 
seated  at  the  foot  of  a  rock,  with  the  legend  "  Favente 
Deo  "  ;  she  was  also  engraved  as  Britannia  on  the 
Naval  Victories  medal  of  the  same  year.  This  placing 
her  upon  medals  seemed  to  become  something  of  a 
fashion,  for  one  was  struck  solely  in  her  honour  with 
the  Britannia  on  the  reverse,  and  in  the  British 
Museum  is  to  be  seen  her  portrait  on  a  thin  plate 
of  gold,  which  induced  Waller  to  write  these  lines 
upon  The  Golden  Medal  : 

"  Our  guard  upon  the  royal  side  ! 
On  the  reverse  our  beauty's  pride ! 
Here  we  discern  the  frown  and  smile  ; 
The  force  and  glory  of  our  isle. 
In  the  rich  medal,  both  so  like 
Immortals  stand,  it  seems  antique  ; 
Carved  by  some  master,  when  the  bold 
Greeks  made  their  Jove  descend  in  gold  ; 
And  Danae,  wond'ring  at  that  show'r, 
Which  falling  storm'd  her  brazen  tow'r. 
Britanni^i  there,  the  fort  in  vain 
Had  batter'd  been  with  golden  rain  ; 
Thunder  itself  had  failed  to  pass ; 
Virtue's  a  stronger  guard  than  braes." 


FRANCES    STUART  85 

The  last  four  lines  express  the  belief  that  neither  by- 
gold  nor  anger  was  Frances  to  be  won,  and  Lady 
Castlemaine  is  evidently  meant  in  the  last  word. 
Roettier  also  designed  the  halfpenny  and  placed  the 
face  and  figure  of  Frances  upon  its  reverse,  though  it 
was  not  issued  until  1672. 

Another  admirer  was  her  cousin  Charles  Stuart, 
third  Duke  of  Richmond,  who  was  much  too  fond  of 
wine,  being  mentioned  by  Gramont  as  "  that  drunken 
sot  Richmond."  He  was  however  married,  and  his 
admiration  did  not  trouble  any  one  seriously. 

At  the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  marriage  we  are 
told  that  the  fair  Stuart,  "  then  in  the  meridian  of 
her  glory "  (she  was  only  fifteen  at  the  time !),  at- 
tracted all  eyes,  and  commanded  universal  respect 
and  admiration,  and  that  Castlemaine  did  her  utmost 
to  outshine  her  by  wearing  a  load  of  jewels  and  by  all 
the  artificial  ornaments  of  dress,  but  in  vain.  The 
rivalry  between  Stuart  and  Castlemaine  never  de- 
creased, the  two  always  being  compared  by  the  diarists ; 
indeed,  Barbara's  continued  enmity  made  things  very 
difficult  for  Frances,  who  continued  to  throw  out  hints 
of  retiring  from  Court,  hints  which  rendered  the  King 
absolutely  frantic.  He  too  was  a  difficult  person  to  deal 
with  in  those  days,  being  moody  and  bad-tempered, 
alternately  slighted  and  smiled  upon  by  the  wdlful  girl, 
who,  while  desiring  to  keep  her  ascendancy,  was 
also  determined  to  keep  her  reputation.  Charles 
offered  to  reform  his  Court,  to  give  up  all  other 
mistresses  if  she  would  only  show  him  the  love  he 
needed ;  but  in  vain.  The  Duke  of  Buckingham 
actually  planned  to  abduct  the  Queen  and  send  her 
off  to  the  plantations,  which  at  least  would  give  an 


86      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

excuse  for  a  divorce,  and  so  make  room  for  Miss 
Stuart.  Charles  was  however  less  depraved  than  his 
adviser  ;  for  he  was  horrified  at  the  suggestion,  saying 
"  it  was  a  wicked  thing  to  make  a  poor  lady  miserable, 
only  because  she  was  his  wife  and  had  no  children, 
which  was  not  her  fault."  Yet  he  was  so  far  taken 
with  the  idea  of  divorce  that  when  he  knew  that  he 
had  a  formidable  rival  in  Miss  Stuart's  affections  he 
asked  Archbishop  Sheldon  if  the  Church  of  England 
would  allow  of  a  divorce  where  both  parties  were  con- 
senting and  one  lay  under  a  natural  incapacity  for 
having  children  ? 

There  were  others  besides  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
ready  to  help  Charles  to  get  rid  of  one  wife  and  take 
another.  During  the  heat  of  the  Popish  Plot,  that 
arch-villain  and  last  word  in  affectation,  Titus  Oates, 
stood  at  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  and 
cried  : 

"  Aie,  Taitus  Oates,  accause  Catherine,  Queen  of 
England,  of  haigh  traison !  "  And  to  this  charge  he 
added  the  evidence  that  he  had  once  stood  behind 
a  door  which  was  ajar  and  had  overheard  the  Queen 
declare  that  she  had  resolved  to  give  her  consent  to 
the  assassination  of  her  husband.  The  public,  moved 
by  its  fear  of  Popery,  was  inclined  to  believe  this 
story,  but  Charles  had  more  sense  ;  he  had  Oates 
put  under  confinement,  and  it  might  have  gone  worse 
with  him  than  it  did  had  there  not  been  some 
in  high  station  who  were  too  involved  in  Oates' 
conspiracies  to  dare  to  allow  him  to  be  executed. 
"  They  think,"  said  Charles,  "  I  have  a  mind  to  a 
new  wife,  but  for  all  that  I  will  not  see  an  innocent 
woman  abused." 


FRANCES    STUART  87 

Years  later  when  Charles,  in  one  of  his  virtuous 
moods,  determined  to  start  a  revised  scheme  of  life, 
he  said  of  Catherine  to  Bishop  Burnet  that  she  v^^as 
a  weak  woman,  and  had  some  disagreeable  humours, 
but  was  not  capable  of  a  wicked  thing,  and  considering 
his  faultiness  towards  her  in  other  ways,  he  thought 
it  a  horrid  thing  to  abandon  her.  He  said  he  looked 
on  falsehood  and  cruelty  as  the  greatest  crimes  in  the 
sight  of  God  ;  he  knew  he  had  led  a  bad  life,  but 
he  was  breaking  himself  of  all  his  faults,  and  he  would 
never  do  a  base  or  wicked  thing.  This  was  the  man 
then  engaged  in  intriguing  with  France  against  the 
interest  of  his  own  country  for  the  sake  of  putting 
money  in  his  pocket  ! 

All  through  this  period  the  Queen  was  friendly  to 
Frances,  for  she  found  her  gentle,  bright,  and,  so  far 
as  could  be  told,  honest.  She  had  another  quality 
which  saved  her  from  all  enemies  excepting  Lady 
Castlemaine,  and  that  was  that  she  was  never  heard 
to  speak  evil  of  any  one. 

But  though  Catherine  had  schooled  herself  to  think 
it  necessary  to  be  kind  to  those  whom  her  husband 
loved,  there  were  times  when  she  would  fain  have 
been  free  from  them  all  and  have  a  little  breathing 
space  in  which  to  realize  that  she  herself  was  of  some 
account  in  her  husband's  life.  She  thought  no  less  of 
her  dream-children  now  that  she  was  well  than  she  had 
thought  in  the  madness  of  her  illness ;  her  one  desire 
was  to  be  a  mother,  and  once  she  went  to  Tunbridge 
Wells,  hoping  that  a  course  of  the  waters  would  pro- 
duce a  good  effect,  just  as  a  little  later  Mary  of 
Modena  went  to  Bath  with  the  most  beneficial  result, 
if  wc  may  credit  the  fact  sworn  to  by  so  many  that 


88      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

James,  the  Pretender,  was  her  son.  Catherine  chose  a 
time  for  going  when  Barbara  was  unable  to  accom- 
pany her — "  as  her  very  presence  at  Court  at  that 
moment  would  have  been  like  an  insult  to  the  Queen  " 
— and  made  all  her  preparations  with  an  unusual  gaiety 
of  spirit.  The  King  was  going  with  her,  and  all  prom- 
ised well  for  Catherine  until  Charles  commanded  Miss 
Stuart  to  be  one  of  the  party,  and  she,  looking  more 
handsome  than  ever,  began  to  make  magnificent  pre- 
parations. Thenceforward  the  poor  Queen  lost  all 
interest  in  the  projected  visit ;  she  did  not  dare  to 
complain,  but  all  hopes  of  success  forsook  her,  and  her 
happiness  was  gone. 

Indeed,  Catherine's  injuries  were  great.  She  lived 
humbly  compared  with  Barbara,  her  very  jointure 
was  said  to  be  bestowed  upon  the  King's  favourites, 
and  she  rarely  had  money.  Pepys  waxed  indignant 
over  this  in  1664  when  he  wrote  :  "The  King  doats 
beyond  all  shame  upon  his  women  and  that  the  good 
Queen  will  of  herself  stop  sometimes  before  she  goes 
into  her  dressing-room  for  fear  of  finding  him  there 
with  Mrs.  Stuart  ;  and  that  some  of  the  best  parts 
of  the  Queen's  jointure  are,  contrary  to  faith  and 
against  the  opinion  of  the  Lord  Treasurer,  bestowed 
or  rented  to  Lord  Fitzharding  and  Stuart  and  others 
of  that  crew." 

By  the  end  of  1666  matters  got  into  a  strained 
condition  all  round.  Lady  Castlemaine  was  becoming 
more  and  more  notorious  for  her  ardent  friendships 
with  different  men,  so  that  when  flouted  by  Miss 
Stuart  Charles  felt  more  or  less  debarred  from  con- 
soHng  himself  with  Barbara,  "  the  wanton,"  as  Killi- 
grew  once  called  her,  being  promptly  banished  the 


FRANCES    STUART  89 

Court  for  his  temerity.  Charles  could  not  for  the 
life  of  him  imagine  what  Frances  wanted  him  to  do, 
and  nothing  that  he  tried  pleased  her.  Then,  on 
January  6th,  1667,  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  died, 
and  as  soon  as  she  was  buried  the  Duke  appeared  in 
the  train  of  Frances  Stuart,  and  even  went  to  the 
King  asking  permission  to  wed  her.  It  was  a  daring 
thing  to  do,  for  Richmond  had  managed  to  secure 
many  favours  from  Charles,  and  had  much  to  lose  by 
his  anger.  However,  the  King  seems  to  have  thought 
it  a  ruse,  and  met  it  by  pretending  to  accede  to  his 
request.  Secretly  he  ordered  Lord  Clarendon  to 
examine  into  Richmond's  estates,  for  he  knew  that 
the  Duke's  affairs  were  in  a  bad  way  ;  and  he  offered 
to  make  Frances  a  duchess  in  her  own  right  and  settle 
an  estate  upon  her.  Burnet,  w^ho  generally  found  evil 
in  Clarendon's  actions,  says  that  instead  of  playing 
the  King's  game  he  persuaded  Frances  that  though 
Richmond's  affairs  were  not  very  clear,  a  family  so 
nearly  related  to  the  King  would  never  be  left  in 
distress,  and  that,  in  fact,  such  a  match  w^ould  not 
come  in  her  way  every  day.  Frances  refused  Charles's 
offer,  both  of  title  and  estates,  and  for  a  time  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  the  projected  marriage.  Yet  she 
made  up  her  mind  that  nothing  but  marriage  and 
absence  from  Court  would  put  and  keep  her  right 
before  the  world. 

The  King  was  genuinely  in  love,  yet  that  did  not 
mean  that  he  had  no  eyes  for  other  women,  and  a 
comic  incident  happened  about  this  time  which 
showed  not  only  how  much  he  w  as  under  the  domina- 
tion of  Miss  Stuart,  but  how  jealous  she  was  of  her 
ascendancy  over  him. 


90      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Frances  Jennings,  the  handsome  sister  of  the  future 
Duchess  of  Marlborough,  had  been  given  the  post 
of  maid  of  honour  to  the  Duchess  of  York,  and  James 
had  at  once  capitulated  to  her  charms.  She  would, 
however,  have  none  of  him.  He  took  to  writing  her 
love  letters,  pushing  one  into  her  hand,  her  muff,  her 
pocket,  an  action  which  was  often  witnessed  by  others ; 
then  she  would  shake  her  muff  or  pull  out  her  hand- 
kerchief as  soon  as  his  back  was  turned,  so  that  unopened 
billets-doux  fell  about  her  like  hailstones,  and  whoever 
pleased  might  take  them  up.  This  so  piqued  the 
curiosity  of  Charles  that  he  determined  to  see  if  he 
could  not  win  where  his  brother  failed.  He  was  a 
wit,  and  the  fair  Jennings  was  wonderfully  pleased 
with  wit  ;  he  was  a  King,  "  and  royal  majesty,  pros- 
trate at  the  feet  of  a  young  person,  is  very  persuasive." 
Who  know^s  what  might  have  happened  had  not 
Frances  Stuart  been  roused  to  action  ? 

She  took  the  King  in  hand,  demanded  that  he  should 
cease  his  attentions  to  Mrs.  Jennings,  and  ended  her 
harangue  with,  "  Leave  to  your  brother,  the  Duke, 
the  care  of  tutoring  the  Duchess's  maids  of  honour, 
and  attend  to  your  own  flock.  But  if  you  must  pursue 
this  girl  I  demand  the  liberty  of  listening  to  those 
who  are  ready  to  offer  me  a  settlement  in  life  which 
I  think  to  my  advantage." 

The  King,  as  usual  when  a  woman  opposed  him, 
knuckled  under  at  once.  He  cared  nothing  for  Mrs. 
Jennings,  though  his  jaded  fancy  had  been  caught 
by  the  exciting  prospect  of  a  chase,  so  he  meekly 
returned  to  his  allegiance  to  Frances  Stuart.  She, 
however,  though  pleased  at  this  proof  of  her  power, 
still  intended  to  settle  down  honourably,  and  knowing 


FRANCES    STUART  91 

that  the  Court  offered  her  nothing  worth  having,  she 
encouraged  the  attentions  of  her  cousin,  hoping  to 
bring  the  affair  to  a  peaceable  conclusion.  In  this 
she  forgot  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  that  lady  contrived 
to  give  at  least  a  touch  of  drama  to  the  end  of  this 
love  episode.  She  had  never  ceased  to  rail  bitterly 
against  Miss  Stuart  as  the  cause  of  the  King's  coldness 
to  her,  and  against  the  King's  weakness,  which  had 
led  him,  for  the  sake  of  an  inanimate  idiot,  to  treat  her 
with  indignity.  She  had  spies  in  the  palace  and  still 
retained  her  old  rooms  there,  and  one  night  she  heard 
the  news  for  which  she  was  waiting. 

She  watched  Charles  come,  with  very  black  face, 
from  Frances  Stuart's  apartments,  and  slipping  through 
the  room  of  Chiffinch,  the  notorious  page  of  the 
backstairs,  into  the  King's  cabinet,  she  presented  her- 
self before  him,  thus  adding  to  his  anger.  But  before 
he  could  express  his  feelings  she  said,  with  ironical 
humility,  "  I  hope  I  may  at  least  be  allowed  to  pay 
you  my  homage,  although  the  angelic  Stuart  has  for- 
bidden you  to  visit  me  at  my  house.  I  have  not  come 
to  reproach  or  to  expostulate  with  you,  or  to  excuse 
myself  for  my  frailties,  seeing  that  your  constancy  for 
me  allows  me  no  defence.  I  have  no  other  intention 
than  to  comfort  and  to  console  you  upon  the  grief 
into  which  her  coldness  or  new-fashioned  chastity 
has  plunged  Your  Majesty."  At  this  she  burst  into 
a  fit  of  laughter  "  as  unnatural  and  strained  as  it  was 
insulting  and  immoderate,"  which  completely  infuri- 
ated the  King  ;  but  as  he  would  have  answered  her 
she  stopped  him  again  by  telling  him  that  if  the  Duke 
of  Richmond  were  not  at  that  moment  with  Miss 
Stuart  he  soon  would  be  there,  and  added,  "  Don't 


92      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

believe  what  I  say,  but  find  out  for  yourself.  Follow 
me  to  her  apartment  that  you  may  either  honour  her 
with  a  just  preference  if  what  I  say  is  false  ;  or  if  my 
information  is  found  to  be  true,  you  will  no  longer 
be  the  dupe  of  a  pretended  prude,  who  makes  you 
act  so  ridiculous  a  part." 

She  then  took  him  by  the  hand  and  pulled  him  to- 
wards her  rival's  rooms. 

There  was  no  one  to  warn  Frances  Stuart,  for 
Chiffinch  was  retained  in  Castlemaine's  interest,  and 
another  servant  who  was  in  the  secret  came  and  whis- 
pered in  the  latter's  ear  that  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
had  just  gone  into  Miss  Stuart's  rooms.  As  Charles 
entered  the  door  leading  to  the  girl's  apartments. 
Lady  Castlemaine  bade  him  good  night  and  went 
back  to  her  own  chamber  to  await  the  news. 

In  the  vestibule  the  King  met  some  chamber- 
maids, who  respectfully  opposed  his  entrance,  one 
telling  him  that  her  mistress  had  been  seriously  ill 
since  he  left,  but  had  gone  to  bed  and  was  now,  God 
be  thanked,  in  a  very  fine  sleep. 

"  I  will  see  that  for  myself,"  said  Charles,  pushing 
the  woman  aside  and  marching  through  the  sitting- 
room  to  the  bedroom.  It  was  quite  true  that  Miss 
Stuart  was  in  bed,  but  she  was  certainly  not  asleep, 
for  the  Duke  of  Richmond  was  sitting  by  her.  The 
scene  that  followed  was  short  and  sharp.  "  The  King, 
who  of  all  men  was  one  of  the  most  mild  and  gentle," 
as  one  of  his  admirers  says,  uttered  his  rage  to  the 
Duke  in  such  terms  as  he  had  never  before  used  about 
anything,  rendering  him  absolutely  speechless,  indeed 
almost  petrified,  until  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  window, 
below  which  flowed  the  Thames.     The  ungovernable 


FRANCES    STUART  93 

anger  of  Charles  and  fear  of  the  easy  revenge  which 
the  window  offered  to  the  King  stirred  the  Duke  to 
action  ;  he  made  a  profound  bow,  and  left  the  room 
without  replying  a  single  word  to  the  torrent  of 
threats  which  had  poured  upon  him. 

Frances  Stuart,  however,  had  learned  one  lesson 
from  Lady  Castlemaine.  Instead  of  being  fearful  or 
apologetic  she  began  to  complain  of  the  way  the 
King  had  treated  her  ;  said  that  if  she  were  not 
allowed  to  receive  visits  from  a  man  of  rank  who  came 
with  honourable  intentions  she  was  a  slave  in  a  free 
country  ;  that  she  knew  no  reason  why  she  should  not 
marry  whom  she  pleased,  and  if  she  could  not  do 
that  in  England,  she  did  not  believe  any  power  on 
earth  could  prevent  her  from  going  into  a  nunnery 
in  France  to  enjoy  the  peace  which  was  denied  her 
here.  She  cried  and  threatened  to  kill  herself,  and 
reduced  the  King  to  the  point  of  throwing  himself 
upon  his  knees  to  beg  for  pardon,  when  she  demanded 
that  he  should  leave  her  to  repose,  and  not  offend  the 
person  who  had  brought  him  to  her  room  by  a  longer 
visit.  Stung  again  to  anger  the  King  went  out 
abruptly,  saying  he  would  never  see  her  again  ;  and 
it  is  said  he  passed  the  most  restless  and  uneasy  night 
he  had  experienced  since  the  Restoration. 

The  next  morning  the  Duke  of  Richmond  set  out 
very  early  for  his  country  seat,  without  waiting  to 
receive  the  King's  command  that  he  should  never 
again  appear  at  Court  ;  and  as  soon  as  it  was  possible 
Frances  threw  herself  at  the  Queen's  feet,  and  with 
tears  protested  her  sorrow  at  ever  having  caused  Her 
Majesty  any  uneasiness,  adding  that  her  repentance 
induced  her  to  desire,  most  sincerely,  to  retire  from 


94      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

the  Court,  for  which  reason  she  had  accepted  the 
Duke  of  Richmond's  attentions,  as  he  had  long  been 
in  love  with  her.  Now,  however,  love  had  brought 
about  his  disgrace  and  had  created  a  great  disturbance 
which  would  do  injury  to  her  reputation,  therefore 
she  begged  Her  Majesty's  protection  and  help  to  per- 
suade the  King  to  let  her  go  into  a  convent  and  so 
end  all  the  troubles  she  had  caused.  This,  of  course, 
worked  upon  the  kind  Queen's  feelings ;  she  mingled 
her  tears  with  those  of  Frances,  and  promised  to  do 
all  she  desired.  Yet,  on  second  thoughts,  she  decided 
differently.  She  knew  that  if  Miss  Stuart  were  not 
absorbing  Charles's  attentions  some  one  else  would, 
and  as  she  must  have  a  rival  she  considered  Frances 
would  be  better  than  any  one  else  ;  then,  too,  she 
hoped  to  win  her  husband's  gratitude  by  keeping  at 
his  side  this  girl  whom  he  loved.  So  she  begged  Miss 
Stuart  to  abandon  her  schemes,  prevailed  upon  her 
to  think  no  more  of  Richmond,  and  actually  reconciled 
her  with  Charles. 

For  a  short  time  there  was  peace,  Charles  was  happy 
and  Mistress  Stuart  appeared  to  be  so.  But  she  was 
evidently  determined  to  establish  herself  on  a  basis 
which  was  somewhat  more  solid  than  that  of  the 
King's  favour.  Towards  the  end  of  March,  1667, 
she  stole  quietly  from  her  rooms  at  Whitehall, 
and  went  through  a  raging  storm  to  the  "  Beare  by 
London  Bridge,"  where  she  met  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond. They  journeyed  down  into  Kent  and  were 
married  in  Cobham  Hall. 

The  morning  after  Frances  Stuart's  elopement 
Lord  Cornbury,  the  Earl  of  Clarendon's  son,  was 
going  to  her  rooms  to  see  her  upon  some  business 


FRANCES    STUART  95 

matter,  when  he  met  the  King  coming  from  her  door, 
his  face  dark  with  fury.  Charles,  thinking  that  Corn- 
bury  knew  all  about  the  affair,  was  delighted  to  have 
some  one  upon  whom  he  could  vent  his  rage,  and  the 
young  man  had  to  stand  and  listen  to  such  a  storm 
of  invective  as  had  never  assailed  his  ears  before. 
Every  time  he  tried  to  interpose  the  King  grew  more 
fierce,  and  the  interview  closed  with  Cornbury,  in  a 
panic,  not  knowing  how  he  had  offended  or  how  to 
defend  himself.  Later  in  the  day  he  was  admitted 
to  the  King's  presence  and  then  allowed  to  speak, 
being  finally  exonerated  from  blame.  Yet,  Burnet 
says,  this  made  so  deep  an  impression  upon  Charles's 
mind  that  he  resolved  to  take  the  seal  from  Corn- 
bury's  father.  Clarendon. 

He  is  said  to  have  believed  that  Clarendon  played 
him  false  in  the  matter  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond's 
estate  ;  also  that  he  had  heard  of  the  idea  of  the 
divorce  and  was  so  disturbed  by  it  that  he  had  at  once 
incited  the  lovers  to  an  elopement  that  he  might 
keep  the  succession  secure  to  his  daughter's  husband. 

In  April,  1667,  Pepys  and  Evelyn  had  a  nice  long 
gossip  over  the  events  of  the  day,  and  Evelyn  told 
his  friend  among  other  things  how  he  believed  Miss 
Stuart  to  be  as  virtuous  a  woman  as  any  in  the  world  ; 
and  that  she  was  come  to  that  pass  that  she  would 
have  married  any  gentleman  of  ;fi500  a  year  who 
would  have  her  in  honour,  for  she  could  no  longer 
stay  at  Court  without  yielding  to  the  King,  and  that 
she  will  never  again  go  to  Court  excepting  just  to 
kiss  the  Queen's  hand,  and  that  she  had  sent  back  to 
Charles  all  the  jewels  he  had  given  her  —  which  had 
much  annoyed  him. 


96      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

For  a  time  after  the  flight  of  Frances,  Lady  Castle- 
maine  was  happy  :  she  had  the  King  all  to  herself,  and 
she  contrived  to  hide  from  him  all  information  of 
the  various  lovers  whom  she  favoured.  They  went 
expeditions  together  to  buy  jewels,  which  were  paid 
for  from  the  Privy  purse  ;  they  played  at  games  and 
romped  like  children,  and  they  quarrelled  like  children. 
On  one  occasion  the  Queen  said  to  her  before  her 
ladies  in  her  drawing-room  that  she  feared  the  King 
took  cold  by  staying  so  late  at  her  house.  At  which 
Lady  Castlemaine  answered  with  temper  that  he  did 
not  stay  late  with  her,  for  he  left  her  house  early ; 
therefore,  if  he  was  late,  he  must  go  somewhere  else. 
As  she  spoke  the  King  entered,  and  overhearing  her 
answer  was  seized  by  sudden  temper  in  his  turn.  He 
whispered  in  her  ear  that  she  was  a  bold,  impertinent 
woman,  who  should  leave  the  Court  and  not  come 
back  until  he  sent  for  her.  With  furious  but  haughty 
air  she  swept  from  the  room,  and  presently,  from 
Whitehall,  going  to  a  lodging  in  Pall  Mall.  For  three 
days  there  was  silence,  then  she  sent  to  ask  the  King 
whether  she  could  not  fetch  her  things  away.  Charles 
practically  answered  that  if  she  wanted  them  she  must 
come  for  them,  and  of  course  she  went,  Charles  seeing 
her  when  she  arrived  and  making  up  the  quarrel. 
There  is  a  hint  that  she  had  made  use  of  threats  during 
those  three  days,  declaring  that  she  would  publish 
the  letters  she  had  received  from  him. 

Another  time  the  quarrel  was  about  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham's  disgrace,  and  Barbara  added  to  many 
coarse  and  wild  words  those  of  calling  Charles  a  fool 
to  his  face.  The  intimacy  with  Jermyn  had  dragged 
its   weary   length   through   several   years,   and   when 


FRANCES    STUART  97 

Barbara  announced  the  expected  birth  of  another 
child  the  King  absolutely  refused  to  own  it,  which 
sent  the  delightful  lady  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage. 
With  oaths  and  screamings  she  vowed  to  him  that 
unless  he  owned  it  and  had  it  christened  in  the  Royal 
chapel  she  would  bring  the  babe  to  Whitehall  and 
dash  its  brains  out  before  all  who  might  be  present. 
Then  she  swept  from  the  palace  like  a  tornado,  shutting 
herself  up  in  the  house  of  Sir  Daniel  Harvey,  where — 
for  she  had  again  uttered  many  disquieting  threats  in 
her  rage — the  King  sought  her.  The  reconciliation 
was  not  quite  so  easy  this  time,  but  at  last,  when 
Charles  prayed  for  her  pardon  on  his  knees,  and 
promised  a  specially  coveted  present,  Barbara  conde- 
scended to  be  friends.  But  this  had  taken  some  days, 
and  all  London  was  laughing  over  the  affair,  and 
lampoons  were  written  upon  it.  The  promise  of  plate 
— in  this  instance  5600  ounces  from  the  jewel-house — 
was  promptly  fulfilled. 

Between  March  and  August  of  1677  various  efforts 
had  been  made  to  induce  Clarendon  voluntarily  to 
give  up  his  Chancellor's  Seal,  and  Barbara  worked  as 
heartily  as  any  one  in  achieving  the  unfortunate  man's 
downfall.  On  more  than  one  occasion  she  was  heard 
to  express  a  wish  that  she  could  have  his  head  on  a 
stake,  and  she  lost  no  opportunity  of  adding  to 
Charles's  wrath  against  his  minister.  W^hen  at  last 
he  fell  she  showed  extravagant  delight,  and  to  see 
him  pass  from  his  interview  with  the  King,  rushed  out 
in  her  smock  into  her  aviary  which  overlooked  White- 
hall and  loudly  bandied  jests  with  the  courtiers  upon 
the  event. 

Charles  could  not  long  be  faithful  to  Barbara,  and 
G 


98      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

a  new  beauty  soon  arose  to  disturb  her  peace  in  the 
form  o£  Nell  Gwyn,  the  pretty  orange-seller  who  was 
allowed  to  vend  her  fruit  in  the  pit  of  the  Theatre 
Royal.  When  Barbara  was  twenty-six  Nell  was  but 
seventeen,  pretty,  arch,  and  gay,  her  tongue  given  to 
repartee,  and  quite  devoid  of  affectation.  Charles 
Hart,  grand-nephew  to  Shakespeare,  and  John  Lacy, 
the  actors,  are  said  to  have  been  responsible  for  her 
elevation  from  the  pit  to  the  stage.  Pepys  tells  us 
that  Lord  Buckhurst  took  her  from  the  stage  in  July 
of  1667  ;  if  so,  she  was  certainly  back  in  August. 
There  are  various  stories  as  to  the  King's  infatuation 
for  her  at  first  sight.  One  is  that  when  reciting  an 
epilogue  in  a  hat  "  of  the  circumference  of  a  large 
coach  wheel,"  her  little  figure  looked  so  droll  under 
it  that  Charles  took  her  home  in  his  coach  to  supper. 
Another  story  goes  that  she  was  befriended  by  Lady 
Castlemaine  and  lived  for  a  time  under  the  protection 
of  that  brother,  or  half-brother,  of  hers  of  whom  we 
occasionally  hear.  This  man  was  careful  to  keep  her 
hidden  from  the  King's  eyes,  but  one  night  when  he 
took  her  to  the  theatre  Charles  and  the  Duke  of  York 
were  present,  and  being  attracted  by  her  witty  tongue 
invited  both  her  and  her  cavalier  to  supper.  When 
it  came  to  paying  neither  Charles  nor  his  brother  had 
sufficient  money,  and  Mr.  Villiers  had  to  lose  both 
his  money  and  his  mistress.  This  was  the  new  rival 
with  whom  Lady  Castlemaine  had  now  to  reckon,  one 
whom  she  affected  to  despise  because  of  her  low  birth, 
yet  who  angered  her  far  more  directly  than  Miss 
Stuart  had  done,  for  she  mocked  her  openly,  mimicked 
her  scornful  airs,  and  had  so  much  more  wit  that  she 
could  always  get  the  better  of  her  in  a  heated  argu- 


FRANCES    STUART  99 

ment.  Years  later  Nell  annoyed  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth as  much  as  she  did  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  a 
pleasantly  ridiculous  story  "  was  blazed  about  "  con- 
cerning a  deadly  revenge  the  two  dames  took  upon 
her.  It  was  said  that  the  King  had  given  Nell  Gwyn 
£20,000,  which  so  angered  Lady  Cleveland  (Barbara) 
and  Madame  Carwell  (Louise)  that  they  arranged  a 
supper  at  Berkshire  House,  to  which  they  invited  their 
rival.  As  Nell  was  in  the  act  of  drinking,  she  was 
"  suddenly  almost  choked  with  a  napkin,  of  which  she 
was  since  dead  ;  and  this  idle  thing  runs  so  hot  that 
Mr.  PhiHps  asked  me  the  truth  of  it,  but  I  assured 
him  I  saw  her  yester  night  in  the  Park."  Thus  says 
one,  writing  to  Sir  Joseph  Williamson  ;  it  is  beauti- 
fully vague,  but  the  story  probably  highly  interested 
and  amused  Society. 

With  Nell,  Lady  Castlemaine  classed  that  other 
comedienne  Moll  Davies,  whose  daughter,  Mary 
Tudor,  had  been  born  in  1663,  and  who  had  ever  since 
kept  up  an  intermittent  friendship  with  Charles. 

When  Barbara  found  that  anger,  sulks,  alternate 
kindness  and  harshness  had  no  effect  in  causing  Charles 
to  break  oif  his  connection  with  these  two,  she  deter- 
mined to  revenge  herself  by  attracting  Charles  Hart 
to  her  side,  Pepys  telling  us  that  "  my  Lady  Castle- 
maine is  mightily  in  love  with  Hart,"  that  he  is  much 
with  her  in  private,  and  that  "  she  do  give  him  many 
presents." 

There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Barbara  had  to  pay 
in  a  disagreeable  manner  for  her  many  light  deeds. 
It  was  in  the  spring  of  1668  that  a  wave  of  indigna- 
tion passed  over  working-class  London  at  the  loose 
life  of  the  Court,  it  being  expressed  in  raids  made 


100    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

by  the  apprentices  upon  all  houses  of  ill-fame.  This 
gave  an  excellent  opportunity  to  the  lampooners,  and 
an  ingenious  libel  was  published  purporting  to  be  a 
humble  petition  from  certain  women  to  the  "  Most 
Splendid,  Illustrious,  Serene,  and  Eminent  Lady  of 
Pleasure,  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine."  A  few  days 
later  a  pretended  answer  to  this  was  published  as 
coming  from  Lady  Castlemaine  herself.  Such  an 
event  caused  passion  and  tears,  and  to  soothe  the 
handsome  termagant  the  King  did  the  only  thing  he 
could  do,  made  her  a  present.  Thus  Berkshire  House, 
in  St.  James's,  with  its  large  grounds,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  this  snapper-up  of  valuable  trifles.  Two 
years  later  Barbara  sold  the  house,  also  the  garden  for 
building  plots,  and  kept  only  the  south-west  corner  of 
the  estate,  on  which  was  erected  Cleveland  House. 
We  are  still  reminded  of  her  when  in  St.  James's  by 
passing  through  Cleveland  Court,  Cleveland  Square, 
or  Cleveland  Row. 

Though  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Richmond  were 
practically  banished  from  Court,  they  had  a  powerful 
friend  there  in  the  person  of  the  Queen,  who  really 
missed  Frances,  and  who  certainly  found  the  atmo- 
sphere of  her  home  too  much  charged  with  electricity 
by  Lady  Castlemaine.  It  may  have  been  a  desire 
for  peace  which  made  her  approach  the  King  as 
mediator  between  him  and  Richmond,  with  the  result 
that  while  Frances  was  giving  gorgeous  entertain- 
ments at  Somerset  House,  Charles  made  some  calls 
upon  her  publicly,  and  in  July,  1668,  she  became 
woman  of  the  bed-chamber  to  Catherine. 

Earlier  in  the  year,  however,  she  was  attacked  by 
smallpox,   and  some  say  was  badly  disfigured  ;    but 


FRANCES    STUART  loi 

the  chief  proof  of  this  seems  to  be  some  remarks 
made  by  Pepys  during  her  illness  :  she  is  "  mighty  full 
of  small-pox,  by  which  all  do  conclude  that  she  will 
be  wholly  spoiled,  which  is  the  greatest  instance  of 
the  uncertainty  of  beauty  that  could  be  in  this  age." 
Four  days  later  he  writes  :  "  I  did  see  Mrs.  Stuart's 
picture  as  when  a  young  maid,  and  now  just  done 
before  her  having  the  small-pox  ;  and  it  would  make 
a  man  weep  to  see  what  she  was  then,  and  what  she 
is  like  to  be,  by  people's  discourse,  now."  Later, 
however,  he  speaks  of  seeing  her,  describing  her  as  of 
as  noble  a  person  as  he  ever  saw,  but  her  face  con- 
siderably worse  than  it  was  by  reason  of  the  small- 
pox. 

Marred  or  not,  she  again  became  a  personage  of 
the  Court,  and  we  hear  again  of  the  factions  which 
attend  her  and  Lady  Castlemaine,  and  of  how  the 
King  made  midnight  visits  to  her.  One  Sunday  night 
he  had  ordered  his  coach  to  be  ready  to  take  him  to 
the  Park,  but  suddenly  changed  his  mind,  jumped 
into  a  boat,  and  either  quite  alone,  or  with  but  one 
attendant,  rowed  to  Somerset  House.  There,  finding 
the  door  into  the  garden  locked,  he  clambered  over 
the  wall,  so  eager  was  he  to  see  the  Duchess.  The 
meaning  of  this  seems  to  be  borne  out  by  an  assertion 
made  by  Lord  Dartmouth,  who  tells  of  an  incident 
when  both  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
were  staying  at  Lord  Townsend's,  in  Norfolk.  Rich- 
mond "  as  usual  got  beastly  drunk,"  and  Charles,  dis- 
gusted, told  him  openly  that  he  had  gained  more 
kindness  from  Frances  since  her  marriage  than  he 
had  ever  been  able  to  persuade  her  to  show  him  before. 
In  1670  the  Duke  was  sent  out  of  the  way  to  Scotland, 


LTBRA"RY 

UNIVEKPTTY  OF  CAT.IFOHNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA 


I02    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

and  the  following  year  he  was  made  ambassador  to 
Denmark,  where  he  died  at  the  end  of  1672.  His 
titles  reverted  by  relationship  to  Charles  II,  who 
allowed  a  bounty  of  £iSo  to  the  widowed  Duchess. 

Frances  continued  many  years  at  Court,  and  in 
1670  we  have  an  account  of  a  "  frolic  "  in  which  she 
attended  the  Queen.  When  staying  at  Audley  End 
they,  with  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  dressed  in 
country  women's  clothes,  went  to  the  fair.  Sir  Bernard 
Gascoigne  riding  before  them  on  a  cart-horse.  They 
did  their  best  to  talk  in  the  country  dialect,  and  went 
from  one  booth  to  another  buying  things.  The 
Queen  asked  for  a  pair  of  garters  for  her  sweetheart, 
and  Sir  Bernard  hunted  for  a  pair  of  gloves  stitched 
with  blue  as  a  present  for  his  sweetheart ;  but  their 
dresses  were  such  exaggerations  of  the  local  fashion, 
and  their  talk  fell  so  short  of  local  diction,  that  all 
the  people  at  the  fair  gathered  round,  wondering 
who  they  were  and  thinking  them  play  actors.  At 
last  some  well-informed  person  recognized  the  Queen, 
and  then  they  were  mobbed  by  curious  and  good- 
humoured  people.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that 
the  Royal  party  regained  their  horses,  and  as  soon  as 
they  mounted  every  one  in  the  fair  who  had  a  horse 
mounted  and  followed,  and  so  escorted  the  Queen, 
much  to  her  annoyance,  back  to  her  house. 

One  account  tells  us  that  Frances  attended  Mary 
of  Modena  at  her  accouchement  in  1688,  and  signed 
the  certificate  before  the  Council ;  she  was  also  at 
Anne's  coronation,  and  died  a  Roman  Catholic  in 
1702.  Those  who  would  like  to  see  a  travesty  of  this 
famous  beauty  in  her  middle  life  will  find  the  wax 
effigy  made  to  carry  in  her  funeral  procession  among 


FRANCES    STUART  103 

the  waxworks  in  Westminster  Abbey,  dressed  in  the 
robes  she  wore  at  Anne's  coronation. 

From  1668  Barbara  Castlemaine  became  so  out- 
rageous in  her  amours  that  Charles  was  actually- 
ashamed  of  her.  Jermyn  and  Hart  were  succeeded 
by  Jack  Churchill ;  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  be- 
tween whom  and  Barbara  existed  both  jealousy  and 
hatred,  played  for  her  the  traitorous  part  she  had  played 
for  Miss  Stuart.  On  one  occasion  when  he  knew  that 
Churchill  was  with  the  too  open-hearted  mistress,  he 
brought  the  King  to  call  on  some  pretext.  In  horrified 
surprise  Churchill  jumped  out  of  the  window,  but 
not  before  his  Royal  master  recognized  him,  and 
called  scornfully,  "  I  forgive  you,  you  do  it  for  your 
bread." 

If  Barbara  was  rapacious  for  money  she  was  liberal 
to  the  men  whom  she  courted,  and  she  gilded  the 
pill  of  disgrace  for  this  man  with  ;^50oo  ;  which,  with 
characteristic  caution,  he  used  to  purchase  an  annuity, 
thus  laying  the  foundations  of  his  fortunes.  The 
story  has  been  told  to  his  discredit  that  years  later 
when  Barbara  once  lost  heavily  at  basset,  and  asked 
him  for  half  a  crown — or  as  one  account  has  it,  for 
j^20 — that  she  might  stake  anew,  he  refused  her,  though 
he  had  ;^iooo  lying  on  the  table  ;  but  this  has  been 
described  by  a  contemporary  as  "  a  piece  of  travelling 
scandal."  When  Barbara's  last  child,  a  girl,  was  born 
she  was  named  Barbara  Fitzroy,  though  the  King 
knew  that  Churchill — or  at  least  any  one  but  himself 
— was  her  father. 

Lady  Castlemaine  in  monetary  difficulties  was,  how- 
ever, at  times  still  rich  compared  with  the  King,  for 
his  poverty  was  occasionally  a  thing  to  cause  many 


104    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

tongues  to  wag.  He  gave  to  his  woman  as  much  as 
he  could  secure,  and  often  paid  his  servants  nothing 
for  months ;  they  to  supply  their  needs  rifled  his 
wardrobe,  his  plate-room,  in  fact,  any  part  of  the 
palace  which  they  could  safely  attack.  During  one 
week  in  which  Barbara  lost  ^25,000  at  basset  it  is 
recorded  that  Charles  only  had  three  white  neckties, 
and  not  a  single  handkerchief.  His  very  shirts  took 
wings,  and  we  read  of  foreign  visitors  coming  to 
present  themselves  at  Court  so  badly  dressed  that 
they  would  be  rigged  out  in  some  of  the  King's  own 
clothes  before  being  allowed  to  appear  before  His 
Majesty.     What  a  subject  for  musical  comedy  ! 

No  wonder  that  the  people,  seeing  where  their 
money  went,  grew  to  hate  the  name  of  Lady  Castle- 
maine,  and  on  one  occasion  when  she  had  gone  to  see 
the  puppets  at  St.  Bartholomew's  fair  a  crowd  col- 
lected round  the  booth  to  hiss  at  and  annoy  the  King's 
"  Miss."  But  when  she  came  forth  her  beauty,  her 
bright  eyes  and  smiling  lips,  her  expression  of  good 
comradeship  made  such  an  impression  that  in  silent 
wonder  they  watched  her  enter  her  carriage  and  drive 
away.  Her  extravagance  infuriated  them  as  much  as 
her  immorality,  for  they  knew  that  she  had  no  right 
to  the  money  she  spent.  Evelyn  speaks  of  the  gallantry 
or  brave  show  of  the  ladies  at  the  theatre  being  infinite, 
and  that  Lady  Castlemaine — an  adjective  written  be- 
fore her  name  is  erased  in  the  printed  book — wore 
jewels  esteemed  at  ^40,000  and  more,  "  far  out- 
shining the  Queen." 

It  was  in  1670  that  Charles  did  his  best  to  be  quit  of 
a  woman  who  had  brought  him  more  trouble  than  plea- 
sure for  ten  years.     The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  takes 


FRANCES    STUART  105 

the  credit  to  himself  of  arranging  the  terms  of  agree- 
ment between  them,  and  he  names  Jermyn  and  Jacob 
Hall,  the  rope-dancer,  as  the  men  who  were  the  im- 
mediate cause  of  bitter  raillery  on  the  King's  part, 
and  on  hers  "  of  an  impetuosity  of  temper  which 
burst  forth  like  lightning."  She  told  her  monarch 
"  that  it  very  ill  became  him  to  throw  out  such  re- 
proaches against  one,  who,  of  all  the  women  in  Eng- 
land, deserved  them  the  least  ;  that  he  had  never  ceased 
quarrelling  thus  unjustly  with  her,  ever  since  he  had 
betrayed  his  own  mean  inclinations  ;  that  to  gratify 
such  a  depraved  taste  as  his,  he  wanted  only  such 
silly  things  as  Stuart,  Wells  [a  maid  of  honour],  and 
that  pitiful  strolling  actress  [Nell  Gwyn]  whom  he 
had  lately  introduced  into  their  society."  Gramont 
continues  :  "  Floods  of  tears,  from  rage,  generally 
attended  these  storms ;  after  which,  resuming  the 
part  of  Medea,  the  scene  closed  with  menaces  of  tear- 
ing her  children  to  pieces  and  setting  his  palace  on 
fire.  What  course  could  he  pursue  with  such  an  out- 
rageous fury,  who,  beautiful  as  she  was,  resembled 
Medea  less  than  her  dragons,  when  she  was  thus  en- 
raged !  " 

The  end  of  this  quarrel  was  that  Barbara  was  created 
Baroness  Nonsuch  of  Nonsuch  Park,  Surrey,  Countess 
of  Southampton,  and  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  with 
remainder  to  her  first  and  third  natural  sons,  Charles 
and  George  "  Palmer."  She  also  received  the  Park 
and  Palace  of  Nonsuch.  In  return  she  was  to  abandon 
Jermyn  for  ever,  she  was  never  more  to  rail  against 
Miss  Wells,  nor  storm  against  the  Duchess  of  Rich- 
mond. 

Though  Barbara  still,  in  the  interest  of  her  children, 


io6    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

tried  to  keep  the  King's  favour,  she  continued  her 
attachments  with  other  men. 

It  was  about  1672  that  WiUiam  Wycherley,  the 
dramatist,  after  the  production  of  Love  in  a  Wood,  in 
which  it  is  asserted  that  great  wits  and  great  braves 
have  a  flaw  in  their  pedigree,  happened  to  pass  the 
Duchess  in  the  coach  drawn  by  eight  in  which 
she  drove.  Barbara  stopped  the  coach  and  shouted 
some  ribald  remark  to  him  about  his  mother,  thus 
facetiously  intimating  that  he  was  a  great  wit.  From 
that  time  until  he  married  Wycherley  kept  up  a  con- 
nection with  her  and  received  large  sums  of  money. 

There  had  been  suggestions  at  various  times  that 
Barbara  should  be  sent  to  Paris  as  a  good  way  of  dis- 
posing of  her,  and  this  actually  happened  in  1675, 
after  a  period  during  which  she  had  exacted  by  the 
complaisance  of  the  King  enormous  sums  from  various 
public  sources.  In  Paris  she  was  anything  but  popular, 
and  consoled  herself  by  carrying  on  an  intrigue  with 
the  English  ambassador,  Ralph  Montagu,  whom  a 
little  later,  because  he  transferred  his  affections  from 
her  to  her  daughter,  Lady  Sussex,  she  betrayed  to 
Charles. 

In  the  midst  of  this  affair  Charles  wrote  to  remon- 
strate with  her  on  the  publicity  of  her  acts,  to  which 
she  replied  :  "  I  promise  you  that  for  my  conduct  it 
shall  be  such  as  that  you  nor  nobody  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  blame  me.  And  I  hope  you  will  be  just  to 
what  you  said  to  me,  which  was  at  my  house  when 
you  told  me  you  had  letters  of  mine.  You  said, 
'  Madam,  all  that  I  ask  of  you  for  your  own  sake  is, 
live  so  for  the  future  as  to  make  the  least  noise  you 
can,  and  I  care  not  who  you  love  !  '  " 


FRANCES    STUART  107 

A  few  months  before  Charles's  death  she  returned 
to  England  and  commenced  a  liaison  with  the  actor 
Cardell,  or  Cardonnell  Goodman,  who  a  year  earlier 
had  been  convicted  of  an  attempt  to  poison  two  of 
her  sons.  By  him  she  had  a  son  whom  "  the  town 
christened  Goodman  Cleveland."  Goodman  is  said 
to  have  refused  to  let  the  play  begin  until  she  appeared 
in  the  theatre,  going  to  the  front  of  the  stage  even 
when  Royalty  was  present  to  inquire  loudly  whether 
his  Duchess  had  arrived. 

Lord  Castlemaine,  who  had  long  ago  divorced  his 
wife  and  married  again,  died  in  1705  ;  and  then  Barbara, 
having  suffered  much  from  public  indifference  and 
from  being  obliged  to  sink  more  or  less  into  obscurity, 
and  who  was  then  sixty-four,  married  Beau  Feilding. 
This  man,  who  was  famed,  as  Barbara  had  been,  for 
his  beauty,  was  fifteen  years  younger  than  she  and  a 
pertinacious  fortune-hunter.  It  is  impossible  to  be 
anything  but  amused  to  know  that  it  was  now  Barbara 
the  Termagant  who  had  to  knuckle  under  to  a  mind 
more  coarse  and  ferocious  than  her  own.  Her  curses 
did  not  count  against  Feilding's  deeper,  wider  range 
of  language,  and  threats  of  violence  were  useless  against 
the  fact  of  violence  itself.  When  Barbara  was  not  as 
generous  as  he  wished  Feilding  felt  no  hesitation  about 
beating  her  and  ill-using  her  to  such  an  extent  that 
she  became  not  only  very  ill,  but  terrified,  for  "  hand- 
some Feilding,"  as  Charles  once  dubbed  him,  openly 
said  he  would  as  soon  kill  her  as  kill  a  dog,  and  she 
feared  him  so  much  that  it  was  long  before  she  dared 
seek  the  protection  of  the  law.  Even  when  he  was 
being  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey,  before  Lord  Chief 
Justice  Holt,  she  would  not  speak  against  him  until 


io8    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

he  had  been  removed  from  the  Court.  He  was  com- 
mitted to  Newgate,  but  to  the  despair  of  Barbara, 
who  feared  his  vengeful  violence,  was  released  on 
bail. 

Then  came  an  unexpected  deliverance.  The  Duke 
of  Grafton,  Barbara's  grandson,  received  a  communica- 
tion from  a  woman  named  Mary  Wadsworth,  who 
claimed  the  name  of  Feilding,  and  when  all  the  truth 
came  out  it  was  found  that  a  few  weeks  before  Lady 
Cleveland  married  the  Beau  he  had  been  united  to  a 
person  whom  he  believed  to  be  a  Mrs.  Deleau,  a  rich 
widow.  But  as  he  had  promised  a  go-between  ;^500 
to  effect  the  introduction  he  had  been  cheated,  and  a 
woman  of  doubtful  character  presented  to  him  as  the 
willing  and  wealthy  Mrs.  Deleau.  As  soon  as  he  found 
out  the  fraud,  he  used  dire  threats  of  violence  to  his 
wife  and  the  match-maker  and  pursued  his  courtship 
of  the  Duchess.  So  once  more  Robert  Feilding  was 
tried,  this  time  before  a  full  bench,  found  guilty  of 
bigamy,  and  sentenced  to  be  branded  in  the  hand. 
This  sentence  was,  however,  remitted,  and  Beau 
Feilding  passed  the  rest  of  his  life  with  Mary  Wads- 
worth  in  rooms  in  Scotland  Yard,  where  he  had  lived 
in  the  height  of  his  best  days. 

The  last  dramatic  scene  in  Barbara's  life  was  when 
the  Ecclesiastical  Court  pronounced  the  decree  of 
divorce  in  May,  1707.  Contrary  to  custom,  the 
official  who  read  it  out  stood  up,  out  of  deference  to 
her  and  her  sons.  "  And  then  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land leaving  the  court,  she  was  led  through  West- 
minster Hall  by  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  [her 
son],  having  a  tipstaff  to  clear  the  way  for  her  to  her 
coach,  and  respected  all  through  the  hall  by  the  gentle- 


FRANCES    STUART  109 

men,  while  Feilding  was  ignominiously  hooted  out  of 
Palace  Yard."  She  lived  about  two  and  a  half  years 
longer  in  retirement  at  Chiswick,  dying  of  dropsy  on 
October  9th,  1709,  her  last  words  being,  "  Give  me 
back  my  beauty."  At  least  so  it  has  been  written. 
The  little  that  remained  of  the  fabulous  sums  of 
money  which  had  passed  through  her  hands  she  left 
to  her  grandson,  the  Duke  of  Grafton. 


CHAPTER   V 
MRS.    JANE   MIDDLETON 

"  What  you  design  by  nature's  law 
Is  Iketing  inclination  ; 
That  willy-wisp  bewilds  us  a' 

By  its  infatuation. 
When  that  goes  out,  caresses  tire 
And  love's  no  more  in  season, 
Though  weakly  we  blow  up  the  fire 
Witli  all  our  boasted  reason." 

Allan  Ratnsay. 

A  LADY  whose  name  would  not  have  lived  through  the 
centuries  had  it  not  been  for  the  portrait  of  her  by 
Lely,  and  the  short  account  of  her  character  by 
Gramont,  was  Mrs.  Jane  Middleton,  who  was  the 
eldest  daughter  of  Sir  Robert  Needham  and  his  second 
wife,  he  being  a  relative  of  Evelyn  the  diarist. 

Jane  Needham  was  born  in  Lambeth  at  the  end  of 
1645,  and  grew  up  a  very  beautiful  girl,  being  so  attrac- 
tive that  at  the  early  age  of  fifteen  she  captivated  and 
married  a  man  ten  years  older  than  herself,  named 
Charles  Middleton.  He  was  not  a  rich  man,  though 
he  had  an  estate  in  Denbighshire  called  Plas  Baddy. 
That  his  father.  Sir  Thomas  Middleton,  was  also  of 
no  great  wealth  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  only  left 
his  children  a  sum  of  ;^ioo  a  year  each. 

To  Charles  and  Jane  Middleton  two  daughters 
were  born,  one  at  the  end  of  1661,  when  the  mother 

no 


Mrs.  Jane  Middlkton 
{Af/cr  Lely) 


[to  face  Page  110 


MRS.    JANE    MIDDLETON  in 

was  just  sixteen,  and  the  second,  who  was  given  the 
curious  name  of  Althamia,  two  or  three  years  later, — 
however  there  is  some  sHght  evidence  that  the  latter 
was  the  daughter  of  Ralph  Montagu,  afterwards  Duke 
of  Montagu. 

In  the  beginning  of  January,  1662-3,  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont  came  to  London  to  pass  his  enforced 
exile  from  the  French  Court.  He  had  had  the  temerity, 
not  for  love,  but  for  the  sake  of  idleness  and  con- 
trariety, to  attempt  to  attract  one  of  the  mistresses  of 
Louis  XIV,  and  though  the  King  cared  little  more 
for  the  lady  than  did  the  Chevalier,  the  latter  found 
himself  a  banished  man.  He  brought  with  him  to 
this  country  a  certain  way  of  regarding  women  which 
was  different  from  that  customary  among  EngHshmen. 
The  latter,  attracted  by  this  or  that  face,  would 
perhaps  pursue  the  owner,  but  Gramont  set  himself  in 
cold  blood  to  seek  some  one  to  whom  to  pay  attention. 
When  he  first  arrived  he  was  enthusiastic  about  the 
beauty  he  saw  around  him.  "  As  for  the  Beauties, 
you  could  not  look  anywhere  without  seeing  them  ; 
there  were  the  Countess  of  Castlemaine,  Lady 
Chesterfield,  Lady  Shrewsbury,  Mrs.  Roberts,  Mrs. 
Middleton,  the  Miss  Brookes,  and  a  thousand  others, 
who  shone  at  Court  with  equal  lustre  ;  but  it  was 
Miss  Hamilton  and  Miss  Stuart  who  were  its  chief 
ornaments."  Thus  reported  this  ardent  and  general 
lover,  and  it  may  have  been  because  he  saw  so  little 
of  Mrs.  Middleton  that  he  was  induced  to  go  in 
search  of  her. 

The  young  wife  was  then  just  seventeen,  and  a 
little  silly.  It  is  curious  that  at  that  period  men  who 
were   in    their   prime    or    growing    old   treated   girls 


112    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

in  their  teens  as  women  of  experience.  Nowhere  in 
the  Memoirs  have  we  any  idea  that  the  woman  who 
talked  sentimental  nonsense  and  tried  to  pose  as  a  wit 
was  a  youthful  creature  who  really  had  not  learned  the 
meaning  of  wit  or  wisdom.  Yet  she  was  no  innocent 
girl ;  even  if  she  had  been  it  would  probably  not 
have  interfered  with  the  Frenchman's  intentions. 
He  was  not  so  much  a  lover  as  a  lover  of  intrigue,  and 
St.  Evremond,  his  noted  friend,  once  gave  him  a 
description  of  his  own  character  which  was  most  apt 
and  true.  "  Is  it  not  a  fact  that  as  soon  as  a  woman 
pleases  you  your  first  care  is  to  find  out  whether  she 
has  any  other  lover,  and  your  second  how  to  plague 
her  ;  for  the  gaining  her  affection  is  the  last  thing 
in  your  thoughts  ?  You  seldom  engage  in  intrigue 
but  to  disturb  the  happiness  of  others." 

To  such  discourses  as  these  the  Chevalier  listened 
amusedly,  while  his  thoughts  were  really  engaged  in 
wondering  to  whom  he  could  offer  his  love,  and  for 
some  idle  reason  he  decided  upon  Mrs.  Middleton. 
She  was  one  of  the  handsomest  women  in  town, 
and  the  fact  that  she  was  not  then  closely  connected 
with  the  everyday  life  of  the  popular  monarch  was 
probably  an  added  inducement,  as  de  Gramont  might 
well  be  a  little  nervous  of  once  more  inflaming  against 
himself  the  wrath  of  a  king. 

Of  Charles  Middleton  we  hear  little,  his  coquettish 
wife  being  content  to  let  him  occupy  the  background 
while  she  discoursed  of  poetry,  Plato,  and  sentiment 
to  the  fine  gallants  who  came  to  pay  her  homage  ; 
feeling  happy  in  her  magnificent  dresses  and  always 
anxious  to  vie  with  those  who  possessed  the  greatest 
fortunes. 


MRS.    JANE    MIDDLETON  113 

As  a  preliminary  step  to  the  gaining  of  her  favour, 
Gramont  made  friends  with  a  Mr.  Jones,  afterwards 
the  one  and  only  Earl  of  Ranelagh,  who  had  been 
wildly  in  love  with  Mrs.  Middleton.  He,  finding  that 
the  valuable  presents  which  either  the  lady  expected 
or  he  thought  fit  to  give  were  becoming  too  serious 
a  drain  on  his  expenses,  was  glad  to  welcome  help 
in  throwing  off  his  responsibility.  Mr.  Jones  might 
easily  have  terminated  his  intrigue  without  resorting 
to  any  finesse,  but  he  had  another  rival  whom  he 
hated,  and  he  preferred  to  go  on  bearing  the  burden 
to  calmly  giving  way  to  a  man  not  of  his  choosing. 
Thus  he  welcomed  the  Chevalier  with  both  hands, 
introduced  him  to  Mrs.  Middleton,  and  did  all  he 
could  to  smooth  the  way. 

De  Gramont  followed  up  his  first  meeting  with 
letters,  presents,  and  visits ;  he  held  long  conversations 
which  bored  him,  ogled  and  was  ogled  in  return, 
but  he  got  no  further.  Mrs.  Middleton  was  ravished 
with  his  presents,  all  of  which  she  took,  though,  as 
she  gave  nothing  but  sweet  smiles  in  return,  the 
Chevalier  grew  tired  of  the  pursuit.  Of  her  character 
and  appearance  he  says  :  "  She  was  fair,  well  made  and 
delicate,  in  manner  somewhat  precise  and  affected, 
giving  herself  indolent,  languishing  airs,  and  extremely 
anxious  to  pass  as  a  wit.  She  wearied  by  trying  to 
explain  sentiments  which  she  did  not  understand,  and 
she  bored  while  trying  to  entertain." 

It  is  not  astonishing  that  the  would-be  lover 
sought  relief  from  her  affectations  in  the  society  of 
Miss  Warmestre,  maid  of  honour  to  the  Queen,  a  girl 
who  was  in  many  ways  just  the  opposite  to  Mrs. 
Middleton,  with  a  brown  complexion,  sparkling  eyes. 


114    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

and  tempting  looks.  So  perfumed  gloves,  pocket 
looking-glasses,  apricot  paste,  essences,  and  other 
frivolities  arrived  every  week  from  Paris,  while  more 
valuable  things,  such  as  ear-rings,  diamonds,  and 
golden  guineas,  were  to  be  found  in  London,  and 
were  passed  on  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  two 
ladies. 

It  was  quite  likely  that  the  versatile  Frenchman 
would  have  entirely  forgotten  Mrs.  Middleton  had  not 
Mr.  Jones  notified  him  that  a  new  rival  had  arisen 
in  the  person  of  the  Hon.  Mr.  Montagu,  who  was 
much  to  be  feared  for  his  wit  and  his  assiduity. 
That  was  quite  sufficient  to  awaken  the  dying  ardour, 
in  which  there  was  no  love,  for  Gramont  could  only 
think  of  how  best  to  be  avenged,  and  tried  to  find  some 
way  which  malice  could  suggest  to  torment  both  lady 
and  gallant.  First  he  thought  to  return  her  letters 
and  demand  his  presents  back  as  an  introductory 
measure,  but  feeling  that  that  was  too  weak  a  course, 
"  he  was  upon  the  point  of  conspiring  the  destruction 
of  poor  Mrs.  Middleton  "  when  there  burst  upon  his 
vision  the  beautiful  Miss  Hamilton.  From  that 
moment  Middleton,  Warmestre,  revenge  all  melted 
from  his  mind  as  though  they  had  never  been  ;  no 
longer  was  he  inconstant,  no  longer  did  his  glances 
roam  :  "  this  object  fixed  them  all." 

It  is  said  that  Mrs.  Middleton  was  kinder  both 
to  Mr.  Jones  and  to  Mr.  Montagu  than  she  was  to 
Gramont ;  and  there  was  at  one  time  much  gossip 
as  to  her  receiving  the  attentions  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  who  in  a  quieter  way  was  more  objectionable 
in  his  love  affairs  than  was  the  King.  Pepys  learned 
that  this  was  a  mistake,  and  that  the  Duke  did  not 


MRS.    JANE    MIDDLETON  115 

want  her  and  could  have  plenty  others,  and  so  forth. 
But  that  again  was  gossip,  and  in  any  case  Mrs. 
Middleton's  portrait  was  included  in  the  gallery  of 
Beauties  painted  by  Lely,  for  which  the  Duchess  of 
York  paid  the  reckoning  ! 

Pepys  alludes  several  times  to  this  lady.  In  church 
one  day  it  pleased  him  most  of  all  to  see  the  fair 
Mrs.  Middleton,  "  who  indeed  is  a  very  beautiful 
lady."  He  always  loved  the  favoured  of  the  great, 
and  his  admiration  grew  with  the  favour  shown  them. 
Evelyn  calls  her  an  incomparable  beauty,  and  adds 
the  information  that  in  the  art  of  painting  (in  oils) 
she  was  rare.  Waller,  the  poet,  dangled  after  her, 
writing  her  many  letters,  and  the  very  youthful 
William  Russell,  the  young  stepbrother  of  the  two 
Brooke  girls,  was  said  also  to  be  her  lover. 

Some  time  in  1668  Mr.  Middleton  took  a  house  in 
Charles  Street,  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  which  was 
just  then  becoming  a  very  fashionable  locality, 
and  whence  his  lively  wife  made  many  conquests. 
She  is  often  mentioned  in  the  letters  addressed  by  the 
French  ambassador  in  London  to  one  or  other  of  his 
chiefs  in  Paris ;  for  while  Charles  was  the  paid 
dependent  of  Louis  every  incident  of  the  English 
Court  was  noted,  and  the  information  was  sent  either 
direct  to  Louis  or  to  him  through  one  of  his  ministers. 
One  of  these  ambassadors  (for  they  changed  every 
few  years)  was  Honore  Courtin,  Seigneur  de  Chan- 
teroine,  who  came  to  England  in  May,  1676,  and  was 
greatly  taken  with  Mrs.  IMiddleton.  In  his  letters  to 
France  he  mentioned  her  often.  "  If  I  were  younger, 
or  less  wise  than  I  have  become  through  your  good 
example,  I  could  enjoy  myself  very  well  over  here. 


ii6    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Madame  Mazarin  and  the  Duchess  of  Sussex  [daughter 
o£  Charles  and  Barbara]  came  to  dine  with  me  to-day  ; 
I  had  near  me  Mrs.  Middleton,  who  is  the  most 
beautiful  woman  in  the  kingdom.  I  took  them  after 
dinner  to  hear  the  French  musicians,  and  then  I  walked 
with  them  through  St.  James's  Park  at  eleven  o'clock, 
where  I  met  the  poor  ambassador  from  Portugal,  who 
is  dying  for  the  Duchess  Mazarin." 

Though  Mrs.  Middleton  was  very  jealous  of  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  did  all  she  could  to  belittle 
her,  she  yet  accepted  her  hospitality  when  expedient, 
and  Courtin  mentions  Louise  giving  a  splendid  dinner 
to  the  French  Embassy,  to  which  Mrs.  Middleton, 
the  Prince  of  Monaco,  Sunderland,  and  "  our  people  " 
were  invited.  The  King,  who  had  dined  with  the 
Queen,  dropped  in  towards  the  end  of  the  dinner, 
and  was  pleased  to  say  that  he  would  not  only  dine 
in  the  same  place  with  the  same  company  the  next 
Sunday,  but  would  go  without  his  supper  the  evening 
before  that  his  appetite  might  be  good  ! 

Courtin  could  not  mention  Mrs.  Middleton  without 
praising  her.  "  She  is  of  all  Enghsh  women  the  one 
whom  I  have  most  pleasure  in  seeing,  but  she  is 
surrounded  by  watch -dogs."  Again  he  wrote  to 
Louvois  :  "  I  am  going  to  call  on  Mrs.  Middleton, 
whom  I  more  than  ever  regard  as  the  most  beautiful 
and  amiable  woman  at  Court.  I  would  give  her  all 
your  money  if  she  would  listen  to  overtures  from  me, 
but  she  once  refused  a  purse  containing  fifteen 
hundred  jacobuses  which  M.  de  Gramont  offered 
her.  Thus  you  need  have  no  fear  about  the  money." 
Gramont  leads  us  to  suppose  anything  but  that  the 
seductive  dame  would  refuse  a  purseful  of  jacobuses, 


MRS.    JANE    MIDDLETON  117 

and  it  is  impossible  not  to  wonder  whether  it  was  the 
ChevaHer  or  the  lady  who  told  the  truth. 

To  this  letter  Louvois  responded  that  he  had  so 
often  heard  of  the  beauty  of  Mrs.  Middleton  from 
Gramont  that  he  was  most  anxious  to  have  her 
portrait,  to  which  the  lady  replied  that  she  was 
extremely  gratified  and  had  the  copy  of  a  picture 
sent  him.  She  also  carried  her  campaign  against  the 
heart  of  Courtin  so  far  that  he  was  regretfully  forced 
to  acknowledge  that  he  was  forty-nine  and  suffering 
from  the  fogs  of  London.  "  If  I  were  at  your  age 
I  do  not  believe  that  I  could  prevent  myself  from 
becoming  foolishly  amorous.  I  have  never  seen  a 
woman  in  any  foreign  country  who  appears  to  me 
so  amiable.  She  is  very  beautiful,  she  has  the  most 
distinguished  air,  it  would  be  impossible  to  show  more 
spirit  than  she  possesses,  and  yet  she  is  modest  and 
true."  Mrs.  Middleton  was  at  this  time  very  popular 
with  all  those  attending  the  French  Embassy,  for 
other  writers  remark  upon  it,  Dorothy  Sunderland 
(Sacharissa)  telling  how  one  day  she  saw  the 
ambassadors  bring  a  coach  full  of  Frenchmen  to  Mrs. 
Middleton's,  and  sent  it  back  to  fetch  more. 

It  was  Mrs.  Middleton  who  helped  to  bring  about 
at  least  a  truce  between  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
and  Duchess  Mazarin,  by  inviting  herself  and  a  friend 
to  dinner  with  the  ambassador,  the  friend  being  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  while  Lady  Harvey  also 
invited  herself  and  took  Hortense  Mazarin.  This 
was  a  good  act  done  in  haste,  for  which  Mrs.  Middleton 
repented  at  leisure,  for  when  she  acquired  the  am- 
bition of  elevating — or  lowering — her  young  daughter, 
then  maid  of  honour  to  Mary  Beatrice,  to  the  rank  of 


ii8    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

King's   mistress,   she   could   not   be  spiteful   enough 
against  Louise,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth. 

She  seized  the  opportunity  when  Louise  de 
Keroualle  was  pretending  to  be  desperately  ill  in  order 
to  revive  the  King's  affections,  to  introduce  the  girl, 
who  was  sixteen  or  seventeen,  to  Charles's  notice, 
and  she  had  even  got  so  far  as  taking  her  to  see  the 
King  in  his  cabinet  when  news  of  this  and  of  other 
attempts  by  other  ladies  to  fill  her  post  brought 
Louise  quickly  from  her  bed  to  fight  her  own  battles 
in  a  more  straightforward  way.  She  soon  stopped  the 
little  visits  to  the  cabinet,  and  thereby  earned  the 
undying  hatred  of  Mrs.  Middleton,  who  threw  all  her 
influence  on  the  side  of  Louise's  rival,  the  Duchoss 
Mazarin.  This  little  skirmish  became  public  property, 
and  in  1679  ^  poem  appeared  with  the  title,  "  Cullam 
with  his  Flock  of  Misses,"  which  devoted  flippant 
couplets  to  the  various  ladies  who  were  offering  them- 
selves as  candidates  for  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's 
place,  the  second  on  the  list  being  Mrs.  Middleton. 
The  first  was  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  ;  then  came 
various  other  names,  the  last  but  one  being  Lady 
Cleveland,  and  the  last  Lady  Katherine — probably 
Lady  Elizabeth* — Jones  being  the  successful  aspirant. 
The  rhyme  about  Jane  Middleton  runs : 

"  Next  Middleton  appear'd  to  view, 

Who  straight  was  told  of  M gue, 

Of  cates  from  Hyde,  of  clothes  from  France, 

•  t 
At  which  the  Court  set  up  a  laughter, 
She  only  pleads  but  for  her  daughter ; 

*  Lady  Katherine  Jones  was  married,  while  her  sister  Elizabeth 
was  then  about  the  Court. 

t  This  line  is  lost,  as  it  was  said  to  be  unrepeatable  in  the  more 
respectable  age  following  that  of  the  Stuarts. 


MRS.    JANE    MIDDLETON  119 

A  buxom  lass,  fit  for  the  place, 
Were  not  her  father  *  in  disgrace. 
With  these  exceptions  she's  dismissed, 
And  Morland  fair  enters  the  list." 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  Hyde  alluded  to 
was  Laurence,  brother  to  the  Duchess  o£  York,  and 
afterwards  Lord  Rochester.  Of  this  friendship  there 
is  mention  made  in  one  of  the  State  Poems  called 
"The  Rabble." 

"  Not  for  the  nation,  but  the  fair. 
Our  treasury  provides  ; 
Bulkeley's  f  Godolphin's  only  care, 
As  Middleton  is  Hyde's." 

Waller  seems  eventually  to  have  given  up  at  one 
and  the  same  time  both  his  Sacharissa  and  Mrs. 
Middleton,  for  Dorothea,  Countess  Dowager  of 
Sunderland,  writes :  "  Mrs.  Middleton  and  I  have  lost 
old  Waller  ;  he  is  gone  away  frightened." 

Miss  Berry  says  that  Jane  Middleton  took,  after  a 
youth  of  folly,  to  an  old  age  of  cards,  but  this 
assertion  seems  to  have  been  based  on  a  little  skit 
written  by  St.  Evremond,  in  which  Mrs.  Middleton, 
Madame  Mazarin,  Mr.  Villiers,  and  Mr.  Bowcher  are 
represented  as  playing  a  game  of  basset. 

Mr.  Middleton  was  Secretary  at  the  Prize  Office, 
a  post  worth  only  about  four  hundred  a  year  ;  yet 
when  he  was  said  to  be  dying,  in  1690,  there  were  many 
to  covet  that  position,  small  as  it  was.  Among  them 
was  a  member  of  Lady  Anglesey's  family,  but  that 
lady,  who  did  the  begging,  said  she  could  not  ask 
for  its  reversion,  as  she  was  on  such  intimate  terms 

*  Ralph  Montagu  was  at  this  time  in  disgrace,  and  it  was  generally 
believed  that  he  was  the  girl's  parent. 

t  Sophia  Stuart  Bulkeley,  sister  to  the  Duchess  of  Richmond. 


120    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

with  Mrs.  Middleton,  and  feared  to  seem  unkind. 
She,  however,  begged  Lady  Russell  to  use  her  in- 
fluence. Mr.  Middleton  died  the  following  year. 
His  eldest  daughter  married  Charles  May,  an  equerry 
to  Queen  Mary,  and  son  or  near  relative  to  the 
notorious  Baptist  May,  who  rivalled  Chiffinch  in  the 
attentions  which  he  showed  the  King.  Mrs.  May 
died  at  Twickenham,  and  was  buried  at  Hampton. 
Mrs.  Middleton  died  some  time  in  1692  after  a  long 
illness,  "  having  preserved  her  wonderful  beauty 
to  the  last,"  and  was  buried  at  Lambeth.  As  she  was 
only  about  forty-seven,  there  is  really  nothing  to  be 
surprised  at  in  the  fact  that  she  was  still  good-looking. 
Her  picture  can  scarcely  be  deemed  to  do  her  justice, 
for  it  does  not  seem  to  display  any  extraordinary 
beauty.  There  is,  however,  all  evidence  that  Lely,  in 
his  hurry  and  self-satisfaction,  thought  more  of  his 
painting  than  of  the  individual  who  was  sitting  to 
him.  "  Good,  but  not  like,"  was  one  of  Pepys' 
criticisms  upon  his  maids-of -honour  portraits,  and  it 
is  only  necessary  to  hear  the  comments  of  those  who 
see  the  pictures  in  the  Court  to  comprehend  the  effect 
they  make.  "  They  are  all  alike  !  "  is  the  general  cry. 
That  may  seem  so  at  first,  and  yet  to  one  who  knows 
them  well  they  are  all  different,  with  a  difference  which 
is  slurred  over  by  the  mannerisms  of  the  painter, 
who,  in  answer  to  a  friend's  query,  once  affirmed  that 
he  knew  he  was  no  painter,  but  he  also  knew  that  he 
was  the  best  that  England  had.  This  portrait  was 
painted  in  1663,  when  Jane  was  in  her  eighteenth 
year,  and  knowing  her  silliness,  we  need  not  be  sur- 
prised at  her  somewhat  vacuous  expression. 

Both    St.    Evremond    and    Charles    de    St.    Denis 


MRS.   JANE   MIDDLETON  121 

wrote  verses  upon  Jane  Middleton's  death  and  grave, 
the  latter  saying  that  she  had  virtues  for  faithful 
friends,  charms  for  lovers,  was  ill  without  anxiety, 
and  resolved  to  die  without  trouble  or  effort. 

Jane's  youngest  sister,  Eleanor,  born  in  1650,  was 
also  a  Beauty,  and  for  years  held  the  position  of 
mistress  to  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  giving  him  four 
children,  who  all  took  the  name  of  Crofts.  She  had 
a  house  among  the  nobility  in  Great  Russell  Street, 
Bloomsbury,  and  was  there  in  1683,  but  a  few  months 
later  Lady  Wentworth,  with  her  youth,  beauty,  and 
passionate  love,  had  supplanted  her  with  Monmouth. 
Eleanor  later  married  a  private  gentleman. 


CHAPTER   VI 

MARY,   COUNTESS   OF   FALMOUTH 

"  Leiy  on  animated  canvas  stole 
The  sleepy  eye  that  spoke  the  melting  soul." 

Pope. 

Among  the  pictures  by  Lely  at  Hampton  Court  are 
two  which  for  many  years  bore  wrong  names,  but  which 
have  since  been  identified.  One,  a  portrait  of  a 
beautiful  young  woman  with  dark,  sHghtly  arched 
brows,  is  Mary,  the  Countess  of  Falmouth,  the  only 
daughter  who  lived  to  maturity  of  Colonel  Harvey 
Bagot,  of  Pipe  Hayes,  Aston,  in  Warwickshire. 
Colonel  Bagot's  first  wife  bore  him  a  son  and  daughter, 
Arden  and  Mary  ;  his  second  wife  one  daughter, 
named  Elizabeth,  who  died  as  an  infant.  This  is 
mentioned  because  there  has  been  some  confusion 
between  these  two  girls,  the  picture  in  Hampton 
Court  being  generally  written  of  as  representing 
Elizabeth,  Countess  Falmouth. 

Mary  Bagot  was  born  in  1645,  and  in  September, 
1660,  was  appointed  one  of  the  four  maids  of  honour 
to  Anne,  Duchess  of  York,  the  only  one  of  them, 
according  to  Gramont,  who  was  really  possessed  of 
virtue  and  beauty.  "  She  had  beautiful  and  regular 
features,  and  that  sort  of  brown  complexion  which, 
w^hen  in  perfection,  is  so  particularly  fascinating, 
and  more  especially  in  England,  where  it  is  uncommon. 


Mary  Bagot,  Countess  of  Falmouth 
{_After  Lely^ 


[to  face  page  122 


MARY,  COUNTESS   OF   FALMOUTH    123 

There  was  an  involuntary  blush  almost  continually 
upon  her  cheek,  without  having  anything  to  blush 
for." 

There  is  curiously  little  to  say  about  the  girl's  life, 
her  quiet  disposition  preventing  notoriety  ;  but  she 
became  attracted  by  Charles  Berkeley,  whose  name 
has  already  appeared  in  these  pages  in  connection  with 
a  dishonourable  act.  It  may  have  been  that  the  bond 
which  drew  them  together  was  their  devotion  to  the 
Stuart  cause,  for  both  came  of  ardent  Royalist  families. 
Charles  Berkeley  had  fought  with  James  in  the  Spanish 
campaigns,  and  was  loved  as  much  by  Charles  as  by 
his  brother.  It  was  he  who,  under  the  guise  of 
loyalty,  so  lightly  and  cruelly  defamed  Anne  Hyde, 
by  falsely  declaring  that  he  himself  had  been  her  lover, 
in  order  to  prevent  James  from  owning  the  marriage 
contract  between  himself  and  Anne.  Later,  when  he 
found  his  evil  intention  to  be  of  no  avail,  Berkeley 
as  lightly  owned  that  his  confession  had  been  all  a  lie. 
Anne  forgave  him  for  this  disgraceful  deed,  but  her 
father  always  hated  him,  calling  him  "  a  fellow  of  great 
wickedness." 

In  courage  lay  Berkeley's  real  virtue — all  who  wrote 
of  him  are  agreed  upon  that  point — and  Sir  W. 
Coventry  spoke  of  his  good  nature,  generosity,  and 
desire  for  public  good,  as  well  as  of  his  "  low  thoughts 
of  his  own  wisdom."  That  he  was  deeply  loved  by 
King  Charles  is  quite  evident,  and  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  the  services  he  rendered  his  sovereign  were 
often  such  as  no  self-respecting  man  would  perform. 
Burnet  says  of  him  that  he  was  without  any  visible 
merit,  unless  it  was  that  of  the  managing  the  King's 
amours  ;    that  he  was  as  much  in  the  favour  of  the 


124    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Duke  as  of  the  King,  was  generous  in  his  expenses, 
and  that  if  he  had  outHved  the  lewdness  of  that  time 
and  come  to  a  more  sedate  course  of  Hfe  he  might  have 
put  the  King  on  great  and  noble  designs.  Gramont, 
however,  gives  him  nothing  but  praise,  but  then, 
Berkeley  had  flattered  the  Frenchman's  vanity  by 
humbly  adoring  the  lady  whom  the  Chevalier  coolly 
determined  to  marry  in  face  of  all  odds.  Of  him 
Gramont  says  :  "  Never  did  disinterestedness  so 
perfectly  characterize  the  greatness  of  the  soul  : 
he  had  no  views  but  what  tended  to  the  glory  of  his 
master  ;  his  credit  was  never  employed  but  in  advising 
him  to  reward  services,  or  to  confer  favours  on  merit  : 
so  polished  in  conversation,  that  the  greater  his  power, 
the  greater  was  his  humiHty  ;  and  so  sincere  in  all 
his  proceedings  that  he  would  never  have  been  taken 
for  a  courtier." 

Gramont  also  owed  to  Berkeley  the  offer  of  a  pension 
of  fifteen  hundred  jacobuses,  made  with  the  kindly 
words,  "  You  must  not  be  obliged  to  me.  I  come 
from  the  King's  coucher,  where  all  the  discourse  was 
about  you  ;  and  I  can  assure  you  that  the  manner  in 
which  the  King  spoke  of  you  could  not  afford  you 
so  much  pleasure  as  I  myself  felt  upon  the  occasion." 
When  the  Frenchman  refused  this  kindness,  which  he 
did  not  think  it  proper  to  accept,  Berkeley  took  some 
trouble  to  acquaint  the  French  ambassador  with  what 
had  passed,  that  the  account  might  soften  the  resent- 
ment which  Gramont's  sovereign  still  showed  towards 
him.  It  is  probable  that,  when  Berkeley  wished,  he 
had  that  perfection  of  manner  which  makes  a  person 
irresistible,  though  there  were  times  when  Pepys  was 
justified  not  only  in  praising  him  for  his  wit,  but  for 


MARY,  COUNTESS   OF   FALMOUTH   125 

saying  that  he  was  of  no  good  nature,  and  not  a  man 
"  ordinarily  to  be  dealt  with." 

It  was  not  long  after  the  Restoration  that  Sir 
Charles  Berkeley  was  raised  to  the  peerage  as  Earl 
of  Falmouth. 

Elizabeth  Hamilton,  who,  though  tinged  in  manner 
by  the  loose  ways  of  the  Court,  always  bore  a  reputation 
beyond  reproach,  was  probably  quite  the  most 
attractive  person  at  the  various  festivals,  and  it  was 
the  correct  thing  for  every  man  to  fall  in  love  with 
her.  Lord  Falmouth  was  no  exception  ;  he,  however, 
felt  that  he  had  no  chance  whatever  with  the  courted 
beauty,  and  very  sensibly  looked  around  for  another 
mate.  Thus  it  was  not  long  before  he  regarded  Mary 
Bagot  with  the  eyes  of  a  lover,  and  though  she  had  no 
fortune  he  made  her  Countess  of  Falmouth  in  1664, 
the  Queen  appointing  her  a  lady  of  the  Bedchamber 
on  her  marriage. 

Another  maid  of  honour.  Miss  Hobart,  had  at  first 
formed  a  great  attachment  for  Mary  Bagot,  who  did 
not  return  the  tenderness,  so  there  is  probably  a 
certain  amount  of  spite  in  the  following  description 
given  by  Miss  Hobart  to  the  girl  who  filled  the  place 
left  vacant  by  Mary.  "  Lady  Falmouth  is  the  only 
instance  of  a  maid  of  honour  well  married  without 
a  portion  ;  and  if  you  were  to  ask  her  poor,  weak 
husband  for  what  reason  he  married  her,  I  am  per- 
suaded that  he  can  assign  none,  unless  it  be  her  great 
red  ears  and  broad  feet."  Such  an  assertion  must  have 
been  inspired  either  by  jealousy  or  by  a  natural  delight 
in  malicious  gossip  ;  and  yet  such  ill-natured  speeches 
may  have  been  the  fashion  of  the  day,  for  this  was  a 
time  in  which  not  only  jealous  women  but  able  men 


126    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

uttered  or  wrote  the  most  horrible  libels  upon  all 
who  in  any  way  tempted  their  satire. 

Of  the  married  life  of  Lord  and  Lady  Falmouth 
little  is  known  ;  it  should  have  been  happy,  as  the 
match  was  disinterested  ;  but  it  was  of  very  short 
duration.  Early  in  1665  Charles  Berkeley  arranged 
to  go  with  the  Duke  of  York  to  serve  in  the  first 
Dutch  war.  Why  he  went  is  differently  accounted 
for  ;  his  loyalty  and  affection  for  the  Duke,  his  love 
of  action,  or  a  desire  for  advancement  are  among  the 
motives  given  as  animating  him. 

At  the  battle  of  Southwold  Bay,  on  the  3rd  of 
June,  1665,  he  stood  near  the  Duke  on  the  deck  of 
the  Royal  Charles,  and  with  him  were  Lord  Muskerry 
and  Richard  Boyle  ;  a  cannon  shot  killed  the  three, 
but  left  James  unhurt.  It  is  said  that  their  blood  and 
brains  bespattered  the  Duke,  while  Boyle's  head 
struck  him  down.  This  event  Sir  John  Denham 
described  in  satirical  vein  and  somewhat  weak  lines  in 
his  "  Poem  on  State  Affairs  "  : 

"  Falmouth  was  there,  I  know  not  what  to  act ; 
Some  say  'twas  to  grow  Duke  too  by  contract ; 
An  untaught  bullet,  in  its  wanton  scope, 
Dashes  him  all  to  pieces,  and  his  hope. 
Such  was  his  rise,  such  was  his  fall,  unpraised ; 
A  chance-shot  sooner  took  him  than  chance  raised  : 
His  shattered  head  the  fearless  Duke  distains. 
And  gave  the  last  first  proof  that  he  had  brains." 

We  may  suppose  that  this  event  distressed  Lady 
Falmouth,  but  she  was  not  one  of  the  obtrusive 
Beauties  of  her  day,  and  she  seems  to  have  lived  her 
life  without  drawing  much  public  attention  to  it. 
The  King,  however,  is  recorded  as  being  terribly 
troubled.     Clarendon  says  :  "  No  sorrow  was  equal — 


MARY,   COUNTESS   OF   FALMOUTH    127 

at  least  no  sorrow  so  remarkable,  as  the  King's  was 
for  the  Earl  of  Falmouth.  They  who  knew  His 
Majesty  best,  and  had  seen  how  unshaken  he  had  stood 
in  other  very  terrible  assaults,  were  amazed  at  the 
floods  of  tears  he  shed  upon  this  occasion."  Pepys 
also  reports  that  Charles  was  much  troubled  at  the 
death  of  Falmouth  ;  but  he  adds  that  he  had  met  no 
other  man  who  wished  him  to  be  alive  again,  for  the 
world  conceived  him  to  be  a  man  of  too  much  pleasure 
to  do  the  King  any  good,  or  offer  any  good  office  to 
him.  Pepys  rarely  said  ill  of  a  person  without  temper- 
ing his  hardness  with  mercy,  so  he  adds :  "  But  I  hear 
of  all  hands  he  is  confessed  to  be  a  man  of  great  honour, 
that  did  show  it  in  this,  his  going  with  the  Duke,  the 
most  that  ever  any  man  did." 

There  were  many  conflicting  stories  about  the 
poverty  of  the  Falmouths.  James  once  declared 
that,  though  not  extravagant.  Lord  Falmouth  died 
not  worth  a  farthing.  But  in  his  will — dated  April 
21,  1665 — Lord  Falmouth  bequeathed  his  landed 
estates  to  his  father  and  his  heirs  male ;  £8000 
to  his  expected  child  (who,  if  a  boy,  would  have 
stood  in  the  place  of  heir) ;  ;^2000  to  his  brother.  Sir 
William;  £1000  to  his  sister  Jane,  and  his  house  at 
RidHngton,  in  Rutlandshire,  with  the  residue  of  his 
personality  to  his  wife. 

In  1673,  when  the  King  was  seeking  for  an  estate 
with  which  to  endow  his  son,  Henry  Fitzroy,  on  his 
betrothal  to  Isabella  Bennet,  he  bought  of  Lady 
Falmouth  Grafton  Park,  or,  to  put  it  in  the  words  of 
the  chronicler,  a  sum  of  £11,289  "^^'^^  given  "to  the 
Countess  of  Falmouth  without  account,  in  considera- 
tion of  the  surrender  of  Grafton  Park,  etc."     There 


128    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

exists,  however,  a  vague  hint  that  this  transaction 
was  one  of  the  disgraceful  and  hidden  things  of 
Charles's  life,  that  the  Park  belonged,  in  fact,  to  the 
Queen,  but  was  bestowed  temporarily  by  the  King  upon 
some  favourite,  for  though  it  was  eventually  given  to 
Arlington  and  Henry  Fitzroy,  it  could  not  be  settled 
upon  them  until  "  after  Her  Majesty's  death." 

Lady  Falmouth's  child,  a  girl  also  named  Mary,  was 
born  later  in  the  year,  and  in  her  fresh  youth  was 
married  with  pomp  at  Westminster  Abbey. 

A  year  after  her  husband's  death  Lady  Falmouth 
was  the  subject  of  Pepys'  pen,  he  calling  her  a  pretty 
woman,  and  explaining  that  she  was  now  in  the  second 
or  third  stage  of  her  mourning  for  her  husband, 
repeating  that  she  was  pretty  pleasant  in  her  looks. 

Like  all  the  other  women  of  the  Court,  Lady 
Falmouth  seems  to  have  flirted  considerably  with 
the  little  wretch  Henry  Jermyn,  so  much  so  that  the 
report  was  all  abroad  that  a  marriage  was  arranged 
between  them,  a  report  that  was  sufficient  to  upset  the 
whole  of  Charles's  household.  For  Lady  Castlemaine 
was  much  in  love  with  Jermyn,  and  in  a  terrible  rage 
at  the  idea  of  his  marriage,  while  the  King  was  jealous 
of  Jermyn  in  relation  to  Barbara  ;  and  when  these 
two  great  people  were  out  of  temper  the  whole  Court 
suffered.  However,  the  report  was  wrong ;  Lady 
Falmouth  remained  a  widow  for  thirteen  or  fourteen 
years.  What  her  life  was  during  that  period  is  only 
discoverable  from  stray  hints.  Her  name  was  men- 
tioned in  connection  with  the  Duke  of  York  when  he 
was  a  widower,  for  James  had  intimated  that  he 
wished  to  wed  a  Catholic  and  one  with  whom  he 
could  enjoy  all  the  happiness  of  domestic  life.     It  is 


MARY,   COUNTESS   OF   FALMOUTH    129 

said  that  all  the  belles  of  the  Court  bedizened  them- 
selves in  their  precious  stones  and  other  finery,  and 
among  them,  desirous  of  making  a  conquest  of  the 
Duke,  was  Lady  Falmouth.  "  But,"  said  the  French 
ambassador  in  writing  to  Louis  of  France,  "  I  doubt 
whether  this  Prince's  passion  for  her  is  so  great  as  to 
lead  him  to  marry  her.  He  would  rather  take  a 
French  princess,  to  whom  His  Majesty  might  give 
a  dowry." 

There  is  also  more  than  one  allusion  to  large  sums 
of  money  given  by  King  Charles  to  Lady  Falmouth. 
Monsieur  Forneron,  who  gained  his  information  from 
French  State  papers — that  is  to  say,  from  information 
sent  by  French  emissaries  in  London  to  Louis — tells 
us  that  Charles  paid  her  in  one  way  and  another 
immense  sums.  While  another  authority  mentions 
that  she  received  ;£8ooo  in  a  few  months.  There  is 
no  reason  given  for  these  payments,  though  certain 
inferences  must  be  drawn  from  the  way  in  which  the 
statement  fits  into  its  context.  Lady  Falmouth  may 
have  been  one  of  the  most  virtuous  of  women,  or 
she  may  have  lived  as  most  of  the  women  about  the 
Court  of  Charles  H  seem  to  have  lived.  Dryden 
and  Mulgrave,  in  their  "Essay  on  Satire,"  are,  however, 
slashing  in  their  condemnation  of  her,  but  they  were 
caricaturists  as  well  as  satirists,  and  were  inclined  to 
magnify  all  the  faults  while  they  minimized  every 
virtue  possessed  by  their  victims,  showing  that  even 
their  virtues  leaned  to  failing's  side. 

At  the  end  of  1678  Lady  Falmouth  became  the 
wife  of  a  man  who  had  been  a  greater  rake  than  her 
first  husband,  but  who  was  then  settling  down  to  that 
quiet  delight  in  literature  and  literary  society  which 


I30    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

has  caused  his  name  to  be  remembered — Charles 
Sackville,  Earl  of  Dorset.  It  was  a  second  marriage 
which  did  not  last  a  year,  for  Lady  Dorset  died  in 
September,  1679,  ^^  giving  birth  to  a  child  which  was 
buried  with  her  at  Withyam,  in  Sussex.  For  curiosity's 
sake,  the  much-quoted  passage  from  the  "  Essay  on 
Satire  "  is  appended  : 

"  Thus  Dorset  purring  like  a  thoughtful  cat, 
Married  ;  but  wiser  puss  ne'er  thought  of  that  : 
And  first  he  worried  her  with  railing  rhyme, 
Like  Pembroke's  mastiffs  at  his  kindest  time  ; 
Then  for  one  night  sold  all  his  slavish  life, 
A  teeming  widou,*  but  a  barren  wife  ; 
Swell'd  by  contact  of  such  a  fulsome  toad, 
He  lugg'd  about  the  matrimonial  load  ; 
Till  fortune,  kindly  blind  as  well  as  he, 
Has  ill  restored  him  to  his  liberty. 
Which  he  would  use  in  his  old  sneaking  way, 
Drinking  all  night  and  dosing  all  the  day ; 
Dull  as  Ned  Howard,  whom  his  brisker  times 
Had  famed  for  dulness  in  malicious  rhymes." 

*  Compare  the  second  of  Pope's  "Moral  P^ssays."     "A  teeming 
mistress,  but  a  barren  bride,"  in  the  "  Essay  on  Woman." 


CHAPTER   VII 
ELIZABETH   HAMILTON,  COUNTESS  GRAMONT 

"  Lely  painted  them,  and  employed  all  his  skill  in  the  performance  ; 
nor  could  he  ever  exert  himself  upon  more  beautiful  subjects.  Every 
picture  ajjpeared  a  master-piece ;  and  that  of  Miss  Hamilton  appeared 
the  highest  finished.  Lely  himself  acknowledged  that  he  had  drawn 
it  with  a  particular  pleasure.  The  Duke  of  York  took  a  delight  in 
looking  at  it,  and  began  again  to  ogle  the  original  :  he  had  very  little 
reason  to  hope  for  success  ;  and  at  the  same  time  his  hopeless  passion 
alarmed  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont." — Memoirs  of  Count  Gramont. 

When  Charles  II  returned  to  his  own  land,  there 
came  over  from  Paris  and  other  towns  in  France 
a  number  of  those  who  had  spent  years  of  their  lives 
abroad  waiting  for  some  turn  in  the  tide  which  would 
allow  them  to  come  back  to  England.  Among  these 
were  Sir  George  Hamilton,  fourth  son  of  the  Earl 
of  Abercorn,  with  his  wife,  who  was  sister  to  the 
Earl  of  Ormond,  and  a  large  family  of  sons  and 
daughters  who  had  been  living  for  some  years  at  the 
Feullatines,  in  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Jacques,  Paris. 
Elizabeth,  the  eldest  girl,  was  then  nineteen  years  old, 
and  it  might  with  far  more  justice  have  been  said 
about  her  at  her  first  appearance  at  Court,  than  about 
little  Frances  Stuart,  that  she  was  at  the  height  of 
her  beauty  ;  she  certainly  made  an  extraordinary  im- 
pression upon  the  hearts  of  the  men.  Before  she  left 
France  Sir  John  Reresby  had  met  and  been  greatly 
attracted  by  her,  and  he  wrote  in  his  journal  that  he 

131 


132     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

liked  her  so  well  that  after  her  return  to  England 
"  I  had  probably  married  her,  had  not  my  friends 
strongly  opposed  it,  she  being  a  papist,  and  her  fortune 
not  being  great  at  present."  But  the  fact  was  that 
Sir  John  was  not  a  constant  lover,  for  between  seeing 
Miss  Hamilton  in  France  and  meeting  her  again  in 
England  he  had  met  a  certain  Mistress  Brown,  who 
made  him  forget  every  one  else. 

The  Hamiltons  did  not  arrive  in  England  until 
early  in  1661,  and  as  Elizabeth  married  towards  the 
end  of  1663,  she  had  in  all  not  quite  three  years  of 
gaiety  at  the  English  Court.  Her  position  there  was 
better  than  that  of  the  maids  of  honour,  for  she 
had  no  official  post,  though  she  was  expected  to  take 
part  in  all  the  revels  and  dances  and  other  festivities 
which  were  arranged. 

It  seems  as  though  every  unmarried  man  of  note 
proposed  to  La  Belle  Hamilton,  by  which  title  she 
soon  came  to  be  known.  The  Duke  of  Richmond, 
seeking  a  second  wife,  was  very  much  in  love  with 
her,  and  yet,  like  the  friends  of  Sir  John  Reresby, 
was  somewhat  held  back  by  that  grievous  lack  of 
fortune  with  which  the  lady  was  afflicted.  Henry 
Jermyn,  so  often  mentioned  already,  was  also  a  wooer. 
Then  there  was  Henry  Howard,  later  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
who  was  followed  by  Richard  Talbot,  afterwards 
Earl  of  Tyrconnel  and  husband  of  the  lively  Frances 
Jennings.  The  two  Russells,  uncle  and  nephew, 
were  also  applicants  for  her  hand.  But  one  of  her 
earliest  English  admirers  was  James,  Duke  of  York, 
who  was  of  too  licentious  a  character  to  make  an 
elegant  adorer  of  a  pretty,  sensible  girl.  Lastly 
came  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who  appeared  at  the 


El.lZABEIH     IlA.MIl.rON,    CoU.NTliSS    OK    GrA.MOM 

CV^er  Lely) 


[  ro    FACE    I'AGE   1  12 


ELIZABETH    HAMILTON  133 

English  Court  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1662. 
He  saw  Miss  Hamilton  occasionally,  but  until  the 
night  of  the  ball  at  which  he  intended  to  be  revenged 
upon  Mrs.  Middleton,  he  had  had  no  close  view  of 
her,  and  then,  though  he  was  quite  forty  years  of  age, 
he  fell  headlong  in  love,  and,  if  he  may  be  believed, 
was  for  a  year  constant  to  the  object  of  his  adoration, — 
his  first  and  last  taste  of  the  sweets  of  constancy. 

The  description  of  La  Belle  Hamilton,  which  is 
to  be  found  in  the  Memoirs  of  the  Count  de  Gramont, 
written  by  the  hand  of  her  brother,  Anthony  Hamilton, 
when  the  debonair  Chevalier  was  an  old  man,  is  well 
worth  repeating.  "  She  had  the  finest  shape,  the 
loveliest  neck,  and  the  most  beautiful  arms  in  the 
world  ;  she  was  majestic  and  graceful  in  all  her  move- 
ments ;  and  she  was  the  original  after  which  all  the 
ladies  copied  in  their  taste  and  air  of  dress.  Her  fore- 
head was  open,  white,  and  smooth ;  her  hair  was  well 
set,  and  fell  with  ease  into  that  natural  order  which  it 
is  so  difficult  to  imitate  ;  her  complexion  was  possessed 
of  a  certain  freshness,  not  to  be  equalled  by  borrowed 
colours ;  her  eyes  were  not  large,  but  they  were 
lively,  and  capable  of  expressing  whatever  she  pleased  ; 
her  mouth  was  full  of  graces,  and  her  contour  un- 
commonly perfect  :  nor  was  her  nose,  which  was  small, 
delicate,  and  turned  up,  the  least  ornament  of  so 
lovely  a  face.  In  fine,  her  air,  her  carriage,  and  the 
numberless  graces  dispersed  over  her  whole  person, 
made  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont  not  doubt  but  that 
she  was  possessed  of  every  other  qualification." 

She  is  further  represented  as  neither  endeavouring 
after  wit  nor  affecting  solemnity,  as  being  reserved, 
just,  and  having  an  admirable  discernment,  noble  in 


134    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

sentiment  and  modest.  Gramont  set  himself  with  all 
the  art  he  possessed  to  engage  her  attention,  but  was 
embarrassed  to  find  that  presents  were  of  no  use  ; 
and  his  man  Termes,  whom  he  had  been  sending 
periodically  to  Paris  to  get  the  little  frivolities  for 
Mrs.  Middleton  and  Miss  Warmestre,  more  or  less 
lost  his  occupation.  In  spite  of  the  many  admirers 
hovering  round  Miss  Hamilton,  the  Chevalier  felt 
no  jealousy  or  anxiety,  knowing  not  only  the  characters 
of  his  rivals,  but  the  tastes  of  the  fair  lady. 

The  Duke  of  York  seems  to  have  been  but  a  heavy, 
uninteresting  lover,  and  really  made  a  mistake  in 
seeking  her  kindness,  for  she  was  not  the  sort  of  girl 
to  suit  him  in  any  way.  He  dared  not  say  what  was 
in  his  mind,  and  he  had  nothing  else  to  say  ;  so  after 
hunting  or  amusing  himself  all  the  morning,  he 
would  lounge  about  in  the  afternoon,  talk  to  her 
as  often  as  he  could  think  of  some  subject  for 
conversation,  and  ogle  her  with  great  assiduity. 
Elizabeth  listened  to  his  stories  of  fox  and  horse, 
to  the  accounts  of  broken  legs  and  arms  and  other 
adventures  ;  she  could  not  rudely  run  away  from  the 
Royal  bore,  but  she  could  hardly  be  sorry  when  the 
fresh  air  and  exercise  weighted  his  lids  in  sleep  and  put 
an  end  to  the  silly,  soft  glances  which  he  lavished 
upon  her.  The  Duchess  of  York  w^atched  the  little 
comedy  with  equanimity,  probably  washing  that  James 
would  always  fall  in  love  with  so  safe  a  subject,  and 
she  treated  Elizabeth  with  affection  and  esteem. 

Miss  Hamilton  had  one  failing,  at  least,  to-day 
we  should  consider  it  in  the  light  of  a  failing,  though 
in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  it  seems 
to  have  been  regarded  as  a  virtue.      She  was  fond  of 


ELIZABETH   HAMILTON  135 

playing  practical  jokes  o£  a  somewhat  unkind  nature, 
but  it  is  evident  that  the  whole  Court  was  intensely 
amused  by  them.  There  was  a  certain  fancy-dress 
ball  given  by  the  Queen  at  a  time  when  she  was  doing 
her  utmost  to  please  the  King  by  her  compliance  and 
gaiety,  and  at  this  ball  the  young  lady  managed 
thoroughly  to  divert  the  Court,  and  just  as  thoroughly 
to  annoy  a  few  unimportant  people.  De  Gramont 
himself  too  tells  a  story  about  his  own  dress  for 
the  occasion  which  is  well  worth  incorporating  in 
the   account  of   the  ball. 

One  of  Anne's  maids  of  honour  was  a  girl  named 
Blague,  who  was  remarkable  for  the  insipidity  of  her 
appearance.  Her  complexion  was  the  same  all  over, 
her  hair  was  very  light,  and  she  possessed  two  little 
hollow  eyes  with  white  eyelashes  "  as  long  as  a  finger  "  ; 
indeed,  the  malicious  Gramont  would  make  the  poor 
girl  appear  as  foolish  as  she  was  colourless,  though 
there  is  nothing  but  his  description  to  foster  the  idea. 

Another  woman  who  often  came  to  Court  was  Lady 
Muskerry,  a  cousin  of  Elizabeth  Hamilton's,  whose 
unfortunate  appearance  should  have  been  enough  to 
save  her  from  ridicule,  and,  indeed,  might  have  done 
so  if  she  had  shown  a  sense  of  fitness,  and  had  not 
always  been  ready  to  do  absurd  things.  Lady  Muskerry 
was  ugly  in  figure,  being  stout,  and  plain  in  countenance, 
while  of  two  short  legs  one  was  considerably  shorter 
than  the  other.  As  she  was  very  rich  she  had,  in 
spite  of  these  disadvantages,  easily  found  a  husband, 
and  might  have  been  happy  enough  but  for  her  love 
of  dress  and  dancing.  Dress  with  her  did  not  mean 
good  taste,  but  a  riot  of  colour  and  jewels,  so  that 
every  one  expected  to  be  amused  by  her  appearance 


136    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

alone.  Thus  it  was  that  on  occasions  of  dignity 
her  name  was  hable  to  be  intentionally  left  out  when 
invitations  were  issued. 

Queen  Catherine  took  much  thought  about  this 
baU  or  masquerade ;  she  definitely  named  those 
who  were  to  dance,  commanding  each  to  represent  a 
nation  by  dress,  and  she  made  these  arrangements 
in  time  to  allow  of  the  most  elaborate  preparations. 
Lady  Muskerry  was  not  invited  to  dance,  and  when 
she  fussed  at  not  getting  a  full  invitation,  her  husband, 
who  was  a  sensitive,  serious  man,  much  less  distressed 
by  his  wife's  homeliness  of  appearance  than  by  the 
ridiculous  figure  she  made  when  decked  out  for  a 
party,  gave  her  a  little  homily,  begging  her  to  be 
content  with  being  a  spectator  at  this  entertainment, 
and  pointing  out  as  gently  as  he  could  that  she  was 
not  of  the  appearance  to  look  well  in  such  circum- 
stances ;  and  he  ended  by  expressly  forbidding  her 
to  try  to  get  a  place  in  the  dance.  When  he  had  gone 
out  the  silly  little  woman  fretted  and  fumed  over 
the  matter,  persuading  herself  that  her  husband  had 
influenced  the  Queen  to  refrain  from  inviting  her, 
and  even  considering  whether  she  would  not  throw 
herself  at  Catherine's  feet  and  demand  justice. 
In  the  midst  of  this  turmoil  a  messenger  brought  an 
invitation,  at  which  she  was  so  overjoyed  that  she 
kissed  it  three  times,  then  ordered  her  coach  to  find 
out  how  a  Princess  of  Babylon  dressed,  for  such  was  the 
character  assigned  her.  One  wonders  if  she  ever  knew 
that  this  card  had  been  forged  by  Miss  Hamilton  in 
order  to  divert  herself  and  those  in  the  secret  with  the 
result. 

It  is  well  that  we  do  not  always  see  ourselves  as 


ELIZABETH   HAMILTON  137 

others  see  us,  though  at  times  we  might  be  saved  some 
sorrow  if  we  had  some  idea  as  to  popular  opinion 
about  us.  Fortunately  or  unfortunately  for  the 
colourless  Miss  Blague,  she  was  quite  content  with 
her  own  appearance,  and  was  ready  to  accept  any 
flattery  that  might  be  offered  her.  She  therefore 
believed  that  a  Frenchman  at  the  Court,  the  Marquis 
de  Brisacier,  was  desperately  in  love  with  her,  and 
though  she  scarcely  understood  a  word  of  French, 
she  regarded  him  as  her  cavalier.  In  return  for  this 
attention  he  wrote  nice  little  sonnets  in  praise  of  fair 
women,  and  her  foolish,  self-conscious  airs  when 
listening  to  these  prompted  the  wicked  spirits  of  the 
party  to  make  a  jest  of  her. 

Elizabeth  had  several  pairs  of  gloves  of  a  certain 
make,  called  the  Martial,  after  the  name  of  the 
manufacturer  ;  so  she  enclosed  a  pair  of  these  with 
four  yards  of  the  palest  yellow  ribbon  she  could  find 
in  a  note  to  Miss  Blague,  which  ran  as  follows  : 

"  You  were  the  other  day  more  charming  than  all 
the  fair  women  in  the  world  ;  you  looked  yesterday 
still  more  fair  than  you  did  the  day  before  ;  if  you 
go  on,  what  will  become  of  my  heart  ?  But  that 
has  for  a  long  time  been  subjugated  by  your  pretty 
little  yeux  marcassins.*  Shall  you  be  at  the  masquerade 
to-morrow  ?  Can  there  be  any  charms  at  an  enter- 
tainment at  which  you  are  not  present  ?  I  shall 
know  you  in  whatever  disguise  you  may  be  ;  but  I 
shall  know  my  fate  better  by  the  present  I  send  you  ; 
you  will  wear  knots  of  this  ribbon  in  your  hair,  and 

*  Marcassin  is  French  for  wild  boar,  the  eyes  of  which  are  small 
and  lively  ;  therefore  the  phrase  was  akin  to  "  pig's  eyes,"  though  it 
meant,  in  addition,  roguish. 


138     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

these  gloves  will  kiss  the  most  beautiful  hands  in  the 
world." 

This  billet  was  sent  to  Miss  Blague,  who  was,  of 
course,  confident  that  it  had  come  from  none  but 
Brisacier,  and  she  was  accordingly  very  happy. 

The  third  person  who  was  destined  to  suffer  at 
the  ball  as  the  victim  of  a  joke — though  not  of  Miss 
Hamilton's  making — was  the  Chevalier  himself,  who 
had  so  gratefully  fallen  in  with  the  King's  desire 
that  he  should  be  La  Belle's  partner  that  he  had  prom- 
ised his  Royal  host  to  use  all  the  good  offices  in 
his  power  with  Miss  Stuart  to  smile  upon  the  King. 
He  chose  to  represent  his  native  country  at  the  dance, 
and  to  this  end  sent  his  man  to  Paris  for  the  most 
splendid  suit  he  could  procure. 

Poor  Lady  Muskerry  called  upon  her  young  cousin 
to  gush  about  her  delight  in  being  invited  to  the  ball, 
and  to  reflect  upon  the  perfidy  of  man,  and  of  her 
husband  in  particular,  who,  before  their  marriage, 
was  ready  to  pass  whole  days  and  nights  in  seeing  her 
dance,  and  now  forbade  her  to  dance  at  all.  She 
grumbled  at  the  difficulty  of  finding  out  how  the 
Babylonian  women  dressed,  and  wondered  she  had 
not  been  told  who  was  to  be  her  partner,  until  the 
malicious  girl  pealed  with  laughter.  Lady  Muskerry 
had  scarcely  left  when  her  husband  entered,  begging 
to  know  if  there  were  any  private  ball  being  given 
on  the  next  day,  adding,  "  I  am  told  my  wife  is 
making  great  preparations  for  a  ball  dress,  and  as  I 
know  she  is  not  to  be  at  the  masquerade,  I  wonder 
where  she  is  going.  I  don't  mind  much  if  it  is  only  a 
private  party." 

Of   course  he  got  no  information,  and  he  had  not 


ELIZABETH    HAMILTON  139 

been  gone  long  when  Miss  Price,  a  maid  of  honour 
to  the  Duchess  and  a  determined  rival  to  poor  Miss 
Blague,  entered  for  a  gossip.  She  was  as  dark  as  the 
other  girl  was  fair,  and  the  sight  of  her  at  once  sug- 
gested an  addition  to  the  little  plot.  Elizabeth  gave 
her  a  pair  of  Martial  gloves  and  some  knots  of  the 
yellow  ribbon,  which  delighted  her,  and  she  said  she 
should  wear  both  at  the  ball. 

"  Do  !  "  replied  Miss  Hamilton  ;  "  but  you  need  not 
say  that  I  gave  you  such  a  trifle.  And,  you  naughty 
flirt,  mind  you  do  not  try  to  rob  Miss  Blague  of  her 
admirer,  the  Marquis,  as  you  have  already  taken 
away  her  last  young  man.  You  are  so  lively  and  can 
speak  French  so  well  that  it  would  be  easy  enough." 
The  evening  came,  the  great  hall  was  filled  with 
guests,  and  the  masquers  were  all  there  but  one ; 
for  a  while  they  waited,  and  then  in  came  the  Chevalier 
de  Gramont,  wearing  the  largest  and  best  powdered 
peruke  imaginable,  and  the  finest  point  lace,  but 
otherwise  dressed  in  ordinary  Court  clothes. 

"  Why,  Chevaher,"  called  the  King,  "  has  not 
Termes  arrived  ?  " 

"  Sire,  pardon  me,  but  there  is  a  history  to  my 
dress." 

The  dancers  gathered  round  him,  all  anxious  to  hear 
what  it  could  be  ;  and  Gramont  proceeded  to  tell 
them  how  he  had  waited  and  waited  for  the  man 
who  ought  to  have  returned  two  days  earlier  ;  that 
he  had  only  arrived  an  hour  previously,  splashed 
all  over  from  head  to  foot,  booted  up  to  the  waist,  and 
looking  as  if  he  had  been  excommunicated.  Termes 
explained  that  he  had  had  the  finest  suit  in  the  world 
made  which  the  Duke  dc  Guise  himself  had  ordered, 


140    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

and  upon  which  he  had  employed  a  dozen  embroiderers 
working  night  and  day.  He  had  packed  it  so  that 
a  deluge  could  not  have  damped  it,  and  then,  alas  ! 
he  had  lost  it  when  within  half  a  league  o£  Calais. 
He  had  gone  down  to  the  shore  that  he  might  take 
ship  more  quickly,  and  had  sunk  into  a  quicksand. 

"  '  The  devil  take  me  if  they  saw  anything  but  the 
top  of  my  head  when  they  pulled  me  out.  As  for 
my  horse,  fifteen  men  could  scarce  get  him  out ; 
but  the  portmanteau,  in  which  were  your  clothes, 
could  never  be  found  ;  it  must  be  at  least  a  league 
underground.' 

"  I  should  certainly  have  killed  him,  but  I  was  afraid 
of  keeping  Miss  Hamilton  waiting,  and  I  was  anxious 
to  tell  your  Majesty  at  once  about  the  quicksand 
that  your  couriers  may  avoid  it,"  concluded  the 
Chevalier. 

Every  one  laughed,  and  began  to  think  of  dancing, 
but  as  they  were  forming  Gramont  remembered 
something  else  he  had  to  say,  and  declared  that  his 
ill-humour  had  been  increased  at  the  door  of  the 
Palace  by  the  devil  of  a  phantom  in  masquerade  who 
stopped  him,  saying  that  the  Queen  had  commanded 
him  to  be  her  partner  for  the  evening  ;  and  that 
when  he  excused  himself  she  had  charged  him  to 
find  out  who  was  her  partner,  and  send  him  to  her 
immediately ;  and  he  concluded  with,  "  But  it  is 
worth  while  to  see  her  dress,  for  she  must  have  at 
least  sixty  ells  of  gauze  and  silver  tissue  about  her, 
not  to  mention  a  sort  of  a  pyramid  upon  her  head, 
adorned  with  a  hundred  thousand  baubles." 

Every  one  wondered  who  it  could  be,  excepting 
those  who  knew  only  too  well ;    the  Queen  looked 


ELIZABETH  HAMILTON  141 

round  and  said  all  her  dancers  were  present,  and  the 
King  declared  it  must  be  the  Duchess  of  Newcastle, 
an  eccentric  lady  of  great  literary  ability. 

"  And  I,"  whispered  Lord  Muskerry  to  Miss 
Hamilton,  "  will  bet  it  is  another  fool ;  for  I  am  very 
much  mistaken  if  it  is  not  my  wife." 

The  King  wanted  the  lady  brought  in  for  inspection, 
and  poor  Muskerry  hurriedly  offered  to  be  his  am- 
bassador, much  to  the  relief  of  Elizabeth  Hamilton, 
who  was  beginning  to  fear  that  her  jest  would  land 
her  in  disgrace  if  the  Princess  of  Babylon  had  entered 
in  all  her  glory.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Lady 
Muskerry  did  not  appear  ;  she  was  hurried  home  by 
her  hard-hearted  husband  much  against  her  will, 
and  a  sentry  placed  before  her  chamber  door  to  prevent 
her  from  going  out  again  that  night. 

As  the  evening  passed  every  one  had  time  to  wonder 
why  Miss  Blague  had  dressed  so  unbecomingly  ;  her 
hair  seemed  stuffed  with  the  citron-covered  ribbon, 
she  looked  yellower  than  ever,  and  was  constantly 
fluttering  her  gloved  hands  up  to  her  head  as  though 
for  a  sign  to  some  one.  In  her  turn  she  wondered 
with  a  sinking  heart  why  Miss  Price  wore  the  same 
adornments,  and  soon  she  became  jealous,  for  that 
young  lady  was  doing  her  best  to  fascinate  the  gallant 
A4arquis,  who  was  in  no  way  loath  to  be  amused. 
When  the  dances  changed  from  the  more  stately 
ones  of  the  Court  to  the  quick  measure  of  the  country 
jig,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  wished  to  ensure 
the  Frenchman  an  amusing  evening,  gave  him  a 
message  from  the  King  desiring  him  to  join  in  the 
dance  with  Miss  Blague,  but  he  considered  a  country 
dance  below  his  dignity  and  begged  to   be  excused. 


142     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

The  poor  girl  thought  he  was  refusing  to  dance  with 
her,  and  her  distress  was  complete ;  and  we  are  told 
that  the  pleasure  of  Miss  Hamilton  and  her  friends 
was  at  its  height  on  seeing  her  discomfiture. 

The  Marquis  never  returned  to  his  flirtation  with 
Miss  Blague,  for  she  had  inquired  the  meaning  of 
marcassin,  and  being  told  it  meant  "pig's  eyes,"  was 
furious  with  him.  She  eventually  married  Sir  Thomas 
Yarborough,  a  man  as  fair  as  herself. 

The  suit  of  clothes  that  was  at  least  a  league 
underground,  the  Chevalier  was  destined  to  see  just 
once.  It  was  when  he  journeyed  to  the  Court  of 
France,  drawn  by  a  mistaken  assurance  that  he  would 
again  be  welcomed  there.  Passing  through  Abbeville, 
he  stopped  at  the  Post  Hotel  for  food,  and  in  the 
kitchen  found  a  dozen  spits  laden  with  game  before 
the  fire.  Termes  was  so  delighted  that  he  secretly 
had  some  shoes  taken  off  the  horses,  to  assure  himself 
not  only  of  a  long  rest,  but  of  a  good  feed  at  the  inn, 
a  trick  which  was  to  bring  him  into  disgrace.  The 
innkeeper  told  them  that  one  of  the  most  wealthy 
men  in  the  neighbourhood  was  going  to  be  married 
that  morning  to  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls,  and 
begged  the  travellers  to  stay  and  see  them.  When  the 
wedding  party  came  from  church  Gramont  looked 
with  interest  at  the  bride.  Alas  !  she  might  have 
been  handsome,  but  four  dozen  patches  scattered 
about  her  face  and  ten  ringlets  of  hair  on  either 
side  completely  hid  her  from  sight.  The  bridegroom 
was  dressed  gaudily  save  for  his  coat,  which  was  of 
the  greatest  magnificence,  and  designed  in  the  most 
exquisite  taste.  Gramont  walked  up  to  him  and 
began  to  praise  the  embroidery,  and  the  complimented 


ELIZABETH   HAMILTON  143 

man  explained  that  he  had  bought  it  for  one  hundred 
and  fifty  louis  of  a  London  merchant,  and  that  he 
had  sat  up  all  night  with  him  at  Calais  trying  to  beat 
down  the  price. 

The  Chevalier  was  persuaded  to  sit  down  to  the 
feast  with  the  bridal  party,  and  in  a  little  while  he 
sent  for  his  man.  As  soon  as  Termes  entered  the 
bridegroom  rose  from  the  table  and  offered  his  hand, 
saying,  "  Welcome,  my  friend  ;  you  see  I  have  taken 
good  care  of  the  coat,  and  have  kept  it  for  a  good 
purpose."  Termes  at  first  pretended  not  to  know 
him,  but  had  to  sit  down  at  his  master's  order,  and 
later  with  ineffable  impudence  he  managed  to  escape 
punishment. 

After  the  great  ball  Gramont's  attraction  for  Miss 
Hamilton  increased  until  it  filled  his  life  ;  he  talked 
of  it  openly,  and  was  with  her  at  every  opportunity, 
yet  every  one  regarded  it  solely  as  gallantry,  for 
none  thought  it  conceivable  that  such  a  noted  lover 
could  at  last  be  in  earnest.  His  friend,  St.  Evremond, 
was  the  only  man  who  saw  through  the  appearance 
to  the  reality,  and  took  the  liberty  of  remonstrating 
with  him,  saying  that  if  he  were  in  the  possession 
of  the  title  and  estate  of  his  family  it  might  be  ex- 
cusable for  him  to  offer  himself,  but  as  he  only  en- 
joyed a  very  moderate  fortune  he  was  behaving  very 
improperly  in  paying  his  addresses  to  A4iss  Hamilton. 
There  was  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  he  said,  who  was 
too  mercenary  to  deserve  her,  but  the  King  had 
offered  to  dower  her,  an  offer  which  La  Belle  Hamilton 
had  refused,  as  she  had  no  mind  for  a  lover  who 
bargained  as  though  he  were  buying  something. 
And  he  then  went  through  the  list  of  rich  and  titled 


144    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

men  who  were,  or  had  been,  her  suitors.  To  all  of 
which  Gramont  replied  with  a  laugh,  saying  that  if 
she  had  loved  any  of  these  savages,  he  would  have 
had  nothing  to  say  to  her,  and  ended  with,  "  I  shall 
make  my  peace  with  my  King,  and  he  will  make  her 
a  lady  of  the  Queen's  bedchamber.  Toulougeon 
[his  elder  brother]  will  die,  and  Miss  Hamilton  will 
have  Semeat  [the  Gramont  country  seat]  with  the 
Chevalier  de  Gramont,"  and  then  he  made  a  bet 
with  St.  Evremond  of  a  hundred  louis  on  the  fulfil- 
ment of  his  prophecy. 

The  Count  was,  however,  sometimes  inclined  to  be 
uneasy  concerning  Elizabeth's  many  lovers.  Colonel 
Russell  gave  him  perhaps  the  greatest  anxiety,  and  this 
he  showed  by  his  somewhat  malicious  description  of 
him  as  a  man  full  seventy — who,  to  prove  that  he 
was  not  old,  would  dance  until  exhausted,  his  dancing 
being  like  his  clothes,  full  twenty  years  out  of 
fashion. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Colonel  was  barely  fifty, 
that  is  to  say  not  ten  years  older  than  Gramont  himself, 
and  was  in  many  respects  a  very  good  farti,  though 
Miss  Hamilton  did  not  accept  him.  This  gave  the 
Chevalier  much  relief,  which  he  expressed  jubilantly 
to  the  King,  saying  that  now  there  was  only  young 
Russell,  the  nephew,  left,  who  had  once  been  much  in 
love  with  Mrs.  Middleton  ;  but  as  Russell's  greatest 
way  of  showing  his  affection  was  to  sacrifice  a  portrait 
of  Mrs.  Middleton,  or  some  of  her  letters,  he  was  in 
no  way  dangerous.  "  So  he  has  really  gone  !  "  an- 
swered Charles.  "  Well,  I  will  give  you  another 
piece  of  good  news.  You  have  lost  a  much  more 
dangerous  rival,  that  is,  if  he  had  not  been  married, 


ELIZABETH   HAA/[ILTON  145 

for  my  brother  has  lately  fallen  in  love  with  Lady 
Chesterfield "  ;  to  which  the  irrepressible  Chevalier 
responded  piously,  "  How  many  blessings  at  once  !  " 

Lely  painted  several  pictures  of  Elizabeth  Hamilton, 
and  it  is  said  that  he  himself  thought  the  portrait 
here  reproduced  to  be  one  of  his  best,  having  been 
drawn  with  particular  pleasure.  The  Duke  of  York 
was  also  so  much  attracted  by  it  that  he  had  serious 
thoughts  of  recommencing  his  attentions  to  the 
original,  thus  giving  Gramont  a  thrill  of  alarm. 
However,  Lady  Denham  interfered,  and  the  danger 
passed.  Why  the  Chevalier  did  not  make  his  offer 
and  settle  the  matter  it  is  difficult  to  say  ;  but  he 
had  another  period  of  anxiety  when  Richard  Talbot 
(later  Lord  Tyrconnel)  hovered  around  the  fair 
beauty.  There  is,  however,  some  evidence  that 
there  was  an  understanding  between  the  pair  before 
Gramont  set  out  for  that  futile  journey  to  France, 
on  the  mistaken  information  that  his  King  desired  his 
return.  As  soon  as  he  arrived  in  Paris  he  was  met 
by  his  brother,  who  told  him  that  he  must  go  back 
without  appearing  at  Court,  by  the  King's  order. 
Severe  as  this  was,  it  did  not  give  great  pain  to  the 
Chevalier,  who  had  been  thinking  of  Miss  Hamilton 
all  through  his  journey,  and  who,  having  obtained 
leave  to  stay  a  few  days  to  collect  some  debts  of 
honour,  took  his  departure  with  great  unconcern, 
arriving  in  London  with  the  highest  satisfaction, 
his  reappearance  giving  La  Belle  much  pleasure.  When 
Gramont  subsequently  went  to  Bristol  with  the 
Court  she  "  granted  him  the  permission  of  writing 
her  an  account  of  any  news  that  might  occur  upon 
the  journey,"  a  permission  w^hich  he  used  to  the  full. 


146    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

though  his  letters  seem  to  have  been  entirely  about 
his  own  concerns. 

Before  1663  ^^^  ^^^  i^^  course  Gramont  was  really- 
pardoned  by  Louis  XIV,  and  was  so  delighted  that 
he  hurriedly  made  preparations  for  his  departure.  It  is 
really  impossible  to  say  how  far  this  man  was  sincere, 
or  rather  constant,  in  his  love-making.  It  may 
have  been  that  he  was  so  overjoyed  at  the  chance  of 
going  back  to  his  own  country  under  the  favour  of 
his  King  that  he  did  for  the  time  forget  all  about  the 
lovely  Elizabeth.  In  any  case,  so  far  as  can  be  judged 
from  the  story,  he  made  his  preparations,  and  left 
London  without  even  seeing  her  to  say  good-bye, 
and  drove  post-haste  to  Dover.  As  he  was  entering 
the  town  there  was  a  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs 
on  the  road  behind  him,  and  before  he  could  alight 
horsemen  appeared,  one  on  either  side  of  the  carriage. 
When  he  was  in  the  act  of  descending  he  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  Hamilton  brothers ! 
As  he  looked  at  his  friend  in  momentary  astonishment 
the  voice  of  a  second  brother,  George,  broke  the 
silence  with  : 

"  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  have  you  forgotten 
nothing  in  London  ?  " 

Nothing  could  disturb  the  Chevalier's  outward 
suavity.    He  replied  with  a  bow  : 

"  Pardon,  monsieur,  but  I  have  forgotten  to  marry 
your  sister." 

The  three  stayed  in  Dover  for  the  night,  and 
returned  the  next  morning  together  to  London, 
where  the  marriage  was  at  once  solemnized.  This 
incident,  it  is  said,  furnished  Moliere  with  the  idea 
of  his  play,  Le  Mariage  Force. 


ELIZABETH    HAMILTON  147 

It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  Gramont  does  not 
give  this  incident  in  his  Memoirs.  His  concluding 
words  on  his  love  affairs  are  as  follows  : 

"  The  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  as  a  reward  of  a 
constancy  he  had  never  before  known,  and  which  he 
never  afterwards  practised,  found  Hymen  and  Love 
united  in  his  favour,  and  was  at  last  blessed  with  the 
possession  of  Miss  Hamilton." 

This  important  event  happened  in  December, 
1663,  ^^^  i^  September  of  the  following  year  the 
French  ambassador  announced  quaintly  to  his  King 
that  "  a  son,  as  beautiful  as  the  mother  and  as  gallant 
as  the  father,  was  born  to  Madame  La  Comtesse  de 
Gramont  yesterday  evening."  This  son  must  have 
died  as  an  infant,  for  no  further  mention  is  made  of 
him.  From  the  Journal  de  Dangeau  we  learn  that 
"  they  had  only  two  daughters,  who,  though  ugly, 
were  greater  intriguers  and  better  known  in  the 
fashionable  world  than  many  belles."  The  elder  of 
these  daughters  married  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of 
Stafford,  and  the  younger  went  into  a  convent. 

It  was  not  until  November,  1664,  that  the  Count 
and  his  wife  went  to  France,  but  they  often  came 
back  to  England.  After  one  such  visit,  in  1669,  King 
Charles  sent  a  letter  to  his  sister,  the  Duchess  of 
Orleans,  saying,  "  I  wrote  to  you  yesterday  by  the 
Comte  de  Gramont,  but  I  believe  this  letter  will 
come  sooner  to  your  hands ;  for  he  goes  by  the  way 
of  Dieppe  with  his  wife  and  family  ;  and  now  that 
I  have  named  her,  I  cannot  choose  but  again  desire 
you  to  be  kind  to  her  ;  for,  besides  the  merit  her 
family  has  on  both  sides,  she  is  as  good  a  creature  as 
ever  lived.     I  believe  she  will  pass  for  a  handsome 


148    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

woman  in  France,  though  she  has  not  yet,  since  her 
lying-in,  recovered  that  good  shape  she  had  before, 
and  I  am  afraid  never  will." 

Elizabeth,  Comtesse  de  Gramont,  was  not  so 
popular  in  France  as  she  had  been  in  England.  It  may 
be  that  the  perplexities  of  life  with  a  gay,  somewhat 
heartless  man  sobered  her  own  bright  spirit,  but  the 
French  ladies  judged  her,  if  we  may  be  guided  by 
Madame  de  Sevigne,  as  affected,  by  no  means  agreeable, 
and  inclined  to  give  herself  haughty  airs.  Madame 
de  Maintenon  thought  her  more  agreeable  than 
amiable,  and  another  lady  has  left  a  record  that  she 
was  Anglaise  insupportable. 

Things  happened  as  Gramont  had  predicted.  His 
brother  died,  and  he  became  owner  of  the  family 
estates  and  inheritor  of  the  family  income,  while  his 
wife  was  made  one  of  the  French  Queen's  ladies. 

In  1688  Gramont  came  as  special  envoy  to  England 
to  congratulate  James  on  the  birth  of  his  son,  and 
received  from  that  pleased  monarch  a  gratuity  of 
^1083  6s.  Sd.  To  the  end  of  his  life  he  was  frivolous 
and  witty,  living  always  on  the  surface,  turning  with 
indifference  from  trouble,  a  man  who  "  hated  sick 
people  and  loved  them  when  they  were  well." 

The  Countess  became  devout,  and  there  is  on  record 
a  little  incident  which  speaks  volumes  upon  the  differ- 
ences of  their  characters  and  habits  of  thought. 
When  Gramont  was  getting  old  he  had  a  bad  illness, 
and  his  wife  tried  to  instil  into  his  i^iind  some  idea  of 
religion.  One  day  she  repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
to  which  he  listened  with  great  attention,  saying 
at  the  end,  "  What  is  that  prayer  ?  It  is  very  fine  ! 
Who  first  made  it  ?  " 


ELIZABETH   HAMILTON  149 

The  King  sent  the  Marquis  de  Dangeau  during  this 
illness  to  see  how  Gramont  really  was,  and  to  advise 
him  to  think  of  God.  When  the  invalid  heard  his 
friend's  errand  he  turned  to  his  Countess  with  a 
flash  of  his  old  wit,  saying,  "  If  you  don't  look  to  it, 
Dangeau  will  juggle  you  out  of  my  conversion." 
Later  on,  when  he  had  recovered  his  health,  it  was  said 
that  he  too  had  acquired  a  new  devotion,  concerning 
which  St.  Evremond  asserted  that  he  believed  it  to  be 
sincere  and  honest. 

The  Marquis  de  Dangeau  is  less  complimentary 
to  the  Count  than  to  the  Countess.  He  says  of  the 
one,  when  he  was  old,  that  "  the  Count's  face  was 
that  of  an  old  ape,"  and  of  the  other,  that  she  "  had 
most  lively  wit  and  most  extensive  information,  the 
greatest  dignity,  the  utmost  ease  in  her  parties,  the 
most  refined  elegance  at  Court.  Her  native  haughti- 
ness was  tempered  by  a  refined  and  elevated  piety 
which  had  converted  her  into  a  true  penitent.  Her 
good  sense  was  so  great  that  she  imparted  it  to  others, 
and  made  the  duties  of  a  wife  compatible  with  the 
follies  and  irregularities  of  her  husband."  But  others 
give  a  more  definite  and  more  pleasant  picture  of  the 
man.  "  He  had  laughing  eyes,  well-made  nose, 
beautiful  mouth,  and  a  little  dimple  in  his  chin,"  says 
Bussy-Rabutin. 

At  the  age  of  eighty  Gramont  dictated  his  Memoirs 
to  his  brother-in-law  Anthony,  who  had  been  living  in 
France  since  the  Revolution  of  1688,  and  it  is  really 
to  Anthony  Hamilton  that  we  owe  the  lively  and 
amusing  account  of  this  group  of  English  people  dur- 
ing the  year  1663,  ^^^  Gramont  himself  could  not  put 
two  words  together  on  paper.     As  with  Beau  Nash, 


150    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

a  pen  was  to  him  a  torpedo,  which  numbed  all  his 
faculties.  The  censor  of  the  Press,  Fontenelle,  was 
so  shocked  at  the  levity  of  these  Memoirs,  and  so 
much  deplored  the  impression  they  might  give  of  the 
Count's  character,  that  he  refused  to  license  the 
book,  and  Gramont  indignantly  appealed  to  the 
Chancellor,  who  decided,  fortunately  for  us,  that  a 
man  had  liberty  to  do  what  he  liked  with  his  own 
reputation. 

The  Chevalier  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  that  he 
never  intended  to  die,  but  Death,  the  inexorable, 
visited  him  in  1707,  when  he  was  eighty-seven,  and 
his  wife  died  a  year  later. 


CHAPTER   VIII 
MARGARET    BROOKE,   LADY  DENHAM 

"  What  frost  to  fruit,  what  arsenic  to  the  rat, 
What  to  fair  Denham  mortal  chocolate." 

Andrew  Marvell. 

George  Digby,  second  Earl  of  Bristol,  had  he  been 
more  stable,  might  have  been  a  man  o£  influence 
during  the  early  part  of  King  Charles  IPs  reign.  He 
had  suffered  much  for  Royalty,  and  at  the  early  age 
of  twelve  had  made  a  wonderful  speech  at  the  Bar  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  on  behalf  of  his  father,  who 
had  been  committed  to  the  Tower  by  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  But  he  showed 
in  all  his  transactions  an  untrustworthiness  which 
effectually  spoiled  his  career.  During  his  enforced 
residence  abroad  he  became  a  Catholic,  which  much 
alarmed  Charles,  who  was  then  waiting  for  the  call 
from  England,  so  that  he  felt  obliged  to  deprive  him 
of  all  offfce.  He  came  back  to  England  at  the  Restora- 
tion and  was  made  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  yet  his 
religion  prevented  his  being  given  any  post.  Of  him 
Horace  Walpole  says  :  "  He  wrote  against  Popery  and 
embraced  it.  He  was  a  zealous  opposer  of  the  Court 
and  a  sacrifice  for  it ;  was  conscientiously  converted 
in  the  midst  of  his  prosecution  of  Lord  Strafford,  and 
was    most    unconscientiously    a    prosecuter    of    Lord 

151 


152    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Clarendon.  With  great  parts,  he  always  hurt  himself 
and  his  friends.  With  romantic  bravery,  he  was 
always  an  unsuccessful  commander.  He  spoke  for  the 
Test  Act,  though  a  Roman  Catholic  ;  and  addicted 
himself  to  astrology  on  the  birthday  of  true  philo- 
sophy." 

The  only  way  in  which  we  are  here  concerned  with 
this  unstable  Earl  of  Bristol  is  in  studying  the  mischief 
he  did  to  his  friends,  and  particularly  to  the  two  Miss 
Brookes,  whose  portraits  Lely  painted.  He  has  often 
been  described, — and  in  fact  is  so  described  in  the  cata- 
logue of  the  pictures  at  Hampton  Court, — as  the  uncle 
of  those  two  sisters,  whereas  they  were  only  distantly 
connected  by  marriage. 

William  Brooke,  the  father  of  the  three  girls,  was 
the  son  of  that  George  Brooke  who  was  executed  in 
1603  for  taking  part  in  what  was  then  known  as 
Raleigh's  conspiracy.  His  elder  brother.  Lord  Cob- 
ham,  was  tried  with  him  on  the  same  charge,  but  was 
acquitted.  When  Lord  Cobham  died  William  Brooke, 
his  nephew,  should  have  succeeded  to  the  title,  but 
was  not  allowed  to  assume  it  until  it  might  be  the 
King's  pleasure  that  he  should  do  so.  It  never  was 
the  King's  pleasure,  and  he  died  at  the  battle  of 
Newbury,   fighting    on    the    Parliamentary    side,   in 

1643. 

William  Brooke's  wife  (Penelope  Hill)  remained  a 
widow  for  some  time.  Then,  though  she  had  three 
daughters,  Hill,  Frances,  and  Margaret,  she  married 
again,  her  second  husband  being  Edward  Russell,  the 
fourth  son  of  the  then  Earl  of  Bedford.  She  had 
seven  children  by  him,  one  of  whom  was  the 
young  Russell  who  was  so  much  in  love  with  Mrs. 


Margaret  Brooke,  Ladv  Denha.m 
{After  Lely) 


[to  face  pace  152 


MARGARET   BROOKE  153 

Middleton  and  who  thought  that  the  greatest  proof 
he  could  give  of  his  later  love  for  La  Belle  Hamilton 
was  the  tearing  up  of  Mrs.  Middleton's  letters  in  her 
honour. 

Of  the  three  daughters  born  to  Penelope  and  to 
William  Brooke,  the  eldest,  named  after  her,  Hill, 
married  Sir  William  Boothby  in  1656  ;  the  second 
girl,  Frances,  and  the  third,  Margaret,  both  of  them 
very  attractive,  must  have  been  twenty  or  more  when 
they  were  discovered  by  Lord  Bristol  to  be  of  possible 
use  to  himself.  They  were  both  possessed  of  some 
fortune  and  were  co-heirs  of  the  forfeited  barony  of 
Cobham  and  of  the  baronies  of  Braye  and  Borough. 
Edward  Russell,  the  stepfather  of  Frances  and  Mar- 
garet, was  brother  to  Lady  Bristol,  and  therefore  the 
relationship  between  them  and  Lord  Bristol  was  no 
nearer  than  that  they  were  the  stepdaughters  of  his 
brother-in-law. 

The  youngest  girl,  Margaret,  is  often  miscalled 
Elizabeth,  and  is  also  described  as  the  eldest  daughter 
and  not  the  third,  while  their  respective  ages  are  given 
as  sixteen  and  seventeen.  These  inaccuracies  are  not 
of  much  importance  to-day,  but  they  are  not  the  less 
inaccuracies.  Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke,  who  died  in 
1683,  being  noted  for  her  elegance  and  her  piety,  was 
a  daughter  of  Thomas  Colepepper,  and  was  painted 
not  by  Lely,  but  by  Parkhurst.  Gramont  says  of  the 
two  sisters  that  they  were  both  formed  by  nature  to 
excite  love  in  others,  as  well  as  to  be  susceptible  of 
it  themselves ;  "  they  were  just  what  the  King 
wanted." 

When  Digby,  Earl  of  Bristol,  saw  these  two  girls 
he  was  without  any  post  either  under  the  Crown  or 


154    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

the  Government,  and  he  was  hoping,  despite  his  pro- 
fession of  CathoHcism,  to  have  office  conferred  on 
him.  He  was  very  friendly  with  Charles,  and  always 
used  his  influence  as  much  as  possible  against  Chan- 
cellor Clarendon's  prudent  advice  —  pandering  to 
Charles's  love  of  pleasure  and  hoping  by  amusing  him 
in  the  evening  to  gain  honour  from  him  in  the 
morning. 

The  pretty,  light-hearted  sisters,  bred  for  society, 
with  no  other  aim  than  to  attract  and  to  be  attracted, 
set  his  thoughts  working,  with  the  result  that  he  be- 
came particularly  polite  to  their  mother,  Lady  Russell, 
and  offered  any  assistance  he  could  give  towards 
settling  her  daughters  in  life.  One  step  towards  that 
end  was  to  invite  them  to  his  supper  parties  and  enter- 
tainments, at  which  luxury  and  elegance  seemed  to 
rival  each  other.  To  these  parties  he  also  invited  the 
King  and  did  his  best  to  promote  friendly  feelings 
between  His  Majesty  and  the  two  girls.  Frankly  he 
hoped  that  Charles  would  fall  in  love  with  one  or 
both,  for  he  was  quite  prepared  to  sacrifice  his  two 
"  relations  "  if  only  he  could  gain  something  for  him- 
self by  so  doing.  The  King  was  quite  sensible  of  this 
kind  attention,  and  divided  his  favours  between 
Frances  and  Margaret,  at  first  scarcely  troubling  to 
make  any  choice  at  all.  Things  would  most  probably 
have  gone  just  as  the  Earl  wished  had  it  not  been  for 
Lady  Castlemaine,  who  found  out  in  some  way  what 
was  happening,  and  as  she  was  devoting  herself  at 
that  time  entirely  to  the  King,  had  no  desire  to  share 
his  attentions  with  any  one.  It  is  impossible  to  say 
who  told  her  of  what  went  on  at  these  parties,  but 
my  lady  thought  it  time  that  she  too  received  invita- 


MARGARET   BROOKE  155 

tions  to  them.  This,  of  course,  the  Earl  could  not 
refuse,  so  Charles — it  was  during  the  somewhat 
diffident  stage  of  his  love  for  Castlemaine,  when  they 
quarrelled  and  made  it  up  like  children — had  to  show 
a  certain  amount  of  propriety,  and  Margaret  Brooke, 
who  had  been  boldest  in  her  assaults  on  the  King's 
heart,  felt  so  cowed  by  the  overbearing  arrogance  of 
the  favourite  that  she  did  not  even  dream  of  con- 
testing the  advantage  she  had  gained.  As  for  the 
King,  we  are  told  that  he  did  not  dare  to  think  any 
more  about  the  girl. 

Among  those  who  had  watched  the  little  comedy 
was  the  Duke  of  York,  who  had  quite  as  catholic  a 
taste  in  love  as  his  brother  ;  and  he  thought  Margaret 
pretty  enough  to  be  worthy  of  his  attentions.  We 
can  say  nothing  of  hearts  caught  in  the  rebound  in 
this  case,  but  Miss  Brooke  did  not  hesitate  to  accept 
consolation  at  the  hands  of  the  second  gentleman 
in  the  kingdom.  However,  once  more  there  were 
those  outside  her  little  social  circle  to  step  in  and  try 
to  save  her  in  spite  of  herself.  It  may  be  that  her 
stepfather — for  her  mother  died  in  1661 — began  to 
realize  the  importance  of  events,  and  preferred  to 
see  the  girl  towards  whom  he  felt  responsibility  an 
honest  wife  rather  than  a  shameless  hanger-on  of  the 
Court ;  certain  it  is  that  as  soon  as  a  suitor  for  Mar- 
garet's hand  opportunely  appeared  in  the  person  of 
Sir  John  Denham,  she  was  quickly  and  safely  married. 
Six  days  before  the  ceremony  Charles,  by  a  Royal 
warrant,  conferred  upon  the  bride,  in  common  with 
her  two  sisters  of  the  whole  blood,  the  precedence  of 
a  baron's  daughter. 

The  bridegroom  bore  a  name  well  known  in  English 


156    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

literature    as    that    of    a    poet,    satirist,    and    wit. 
Denham  had  been   a  gambler  from  his  youth,   and 
when  he  was  about  twenty-six  this  vice  landed  him 
in  family  trouble,  so  to  prove  to  his  father  that  he 
was  an  innocently  accused  young  man  he  wrote  an 
essay   against    gaming,    entitled    "  The   Anatomy   of 
Play,    Written    by    a    Worthy    and    Learned    Gent. 
Dedicated  to  his  Father  to  show  his  detestation  of  it." 
Whether  his  father — whose  very  caps,  wrought,  it  is 
true,  with  gold,  went  to  find  money  for  his  son's  gaming 
— was  hoodwinked  by  the  pamphlet,  no  record  tells. 
John  Denham  married  in  1631,  and  a  few  years  later 
inherited  his  father's  property.     He  wrote  a  tragedy 
named  The  Sophy,  which  was  acted  successfully  and 
which  made  Waller  say  of  him,  "  He  broke  out  like 
the  Irish  rebellion,  three-score  thousand  strong,  when 
nobody  was  aware,  or  in  the  least  suspected  it."    His 
reputation,  however,  rests  chiefly  upon  his  poem  of 
"  Cooper's  Hill,"  a  description  of  the  scenery  about 
Egham,  and  that  is  mainly  remembered  for  its  brief 
passage   about   the   Thames,   "  strong  without   rage, 
without  o'erflowing  full."    During  the  many  troubles 
of  the  Civil  War  George  Wither,  another  poet,  appHed 
to  Cromwell  for  a  grant  of  Denham's  property,  and 
in  consequence  held  his  house  at  Egham.    Sir  John 
retaliated  for  this  later  when,  Wither    being   taken 
prisoner    by    the    Royahsts,    he    begged    Charles    I 
to  pardon    him    on    the   ground    that  while  Wither 
lived   he   would    not   himself   be   the  worst   poet  in 
England. 

By  means  of  ciphers  Denham  managed  Charles  I's 
correspondence,  but  when  in  1648  he  became  sus- 
pected he  took  a  share  in  the  escape  of  James,  Duke 


MARGARET   BROOKE  157 

of  York,  from  England,  and  went  with  him  to  Holland. 
He  was  from  first  to  last  a  Royalist,  and  at  the  Restora- 
tion was  granted  land  and  leases  in  exchange  for  those 
he  had  lost ;  he  was  also  made  surveyor-general  of  His 
Majesty's  works,  in  which  capacity  he  is  said  to  have 
built  Burlington  House.  He  arranged  Charles  H's 
coronation,  was  made  a  Knight  of  the  Bath,  and  was 
constantly  in  touch  with  the  Court.  Thus  it  was 
that,  having  been  a  widower  some  time,  he  became 
attracted  by  Margaret  Brooke  and  asked  her  hand  in 
marriage. 

Gramont,  who,  as  has  already  been  said,  allowed  no 
story  to  fail  of  being  effective  for  want  of  exaggera- 
tion, says  that  at  his  marriage  with  a  girl  of  eighteen 
he  was  seventy-nine  ("  ancient  and  limping,"  accord- 
ing to  Aubrey)  ;  but  this  was  pure  invention.  In 
May,  1665,  the  year  of  his  marriage,  he  had  reached 
his  fiftieth  birthday,  though  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that  from  ill-health  he  looked  much  older,  while 
instead  of  being  eighteen,  his  bride  was  twenty-three. 
Margaret  Brooke  might  have  refused  to  be  thus  auto- 
cratically settled,  but  that  the  Duke  of  York  had  cooled 
in  his  love-making  and  had  neglected  her  for  some 
time.  Therefore  she  determined  to  take  the  man  who 
wanted  her  and  make  the  best  of  it,  with  her  town 
house  in  Scotland  Yard  and  a  country  estate  at 
Waltham  Cross. 

As  soon  as  James  knew  that  another  man  desired 
the  fair  damsel  she  went  up  considerably  in  his  estima- 
tion, and  he  pursued  her  everywhere  ;  but  Margaret 
shook  her  head  and  kept  him  at  a  distance,  though,  as 
she  longed  above  all  things  to  be  a  Court  lady,  she 
made  him  promises  of  future  favours  upon  the  fulfil- 


158    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

ment  of  certain  conditions.  Sir  John  Denham  had 
no  idea  that  a  conspiracy  of  this  sort  attended  his 
marriage  ;  he  was  very  much  in  love,  and  probably 
hoped  to  have  years  of  happiness  with  his  young  wife. 

For  a  time  it  seemed  as  though  he  would  have  his 
desire,  for  Lady  Chesterfield,  who  was  intent  on 
revenging  herself  for  her  husband's  neglect,  was 
tempted  to  rob  the  young  bride  of  the  Royal  lover 
she  coveted.  She  made  a  dead  set  at  James,  a  Prince 
who  had  never  been  able  to  resist  a  woman's  eyes. 
She  ogled  him  and  he  ogled  her  in  return,  "  and  as  he 
was  the  most  unguarded  ogler  of  his  time,  the  whole 
Court  was  informed  of  the  intrigue  before  it  was  well 
begun."  This  little  affair  gave  Sir  John  at  least  a 
few  months'  happiness  with  his  wife,  though  she  was 
scarcely  pleased  with  the  turn  things  had  taken,  all  of 
which  sounds  very  sordid  in  an  age  when  the  whole 
standard  of  life  and  decency  has  been  raised. 

Yet  this  had  a  reverse  side,  which  no  one  has  put 
before  us  so  successfully  as  Gramont ;  though  behind 
all  his  graceful  words  one  sees  lurking  the  dark  shadow 
of  licentiousness  and  want  of  principle.  He  tells  us 
that  at  the  time  of  Lady  Chesterfield's  infatuation  for 
James  "  the  Court  was  an  entire  scene  of  gallantry 
and  amusements,  with  all  the  politeness  and  magnifi- 
cence which  the  inclinations  of  a  prince,  naturally 
addicted  to  tenderness  and  pleasure,  could  suggest ; 
the  beautiful  were  desirous  of  charming,  and  the  men 
endeavoured  to  please  ;  all  studied  to  set  themselves 
off  to  the  best  advantage  ;  some  distinguished  them- 
selves by  dancing  ;  others  by  show  and  magnificence  ; 
some  by  their  wit,  many  by  their  amours,  but  few  by 
their  constancy." 


MARGARET    BROOKE  159 

One  might  almost  have  thought  that  Margaret  Den- 
ham  would  have  been  discouraged  by  the  many  ob- 
stacles which  seemed  to  come  in  the  way  of  the  fulfil- 
ment of  her  desire  for  Royal  favour  ;  but  being  a 
woman  without  principle  she  waited  her  time,  and 
at  last,  after  Lady  Chesterfield  had  finally  been  carried 
off  to  the  country  by  her  jealous  husband,  she  saw 
her  goal  in  sight.  She  had  made  herself  conspicuous 
by  her  bitter  anger  against  her  rival ;  now  she  was  as 
conspicuous  by  the  adulation  she  offered  to  the  Duke. 
A  year  after  her  marriage  she  was  publicly  regarded 
as  James's  mistress,  Pepys  telling  us  in  June,  1666, 
how  "  the  Duke  of  York  is  wholly  given  up  to  his 
new  mistress,  my  Lady  Denham,  going  at  noonday 
with  all  his  gentlemen  to  visit  her  in  Scotland  Yard  ; 
she  declaring  that  she  will  not  be  his  mistress,  as 
Mrs.  Price,  to  go  up  and  down  the  Privy-stairs,  but 
will  be  owned  publicly  ;  and  so  she  is.  Mr.  Brouncker, 
it  seems,  was  the  person  to  bring  it  about,  and  my 
Lady  Castlemaine,  who  designs  thereby  to  fortify 
herself  with  the  Duke,  as  she  has  quarrelled  with  the 
King."  Wheels  within  wheels,  Castlemaine's  temper 
caused  her  to  need  an  ally  in  the  King's  brother,  so 
she  gains  his  favour  by  satisfying  Lady  Denham's 
desire  !  One  could  wish  that  Brouncker,  who  had 
sufl[icient  intellect  to  be  one  of  the  most  famous 
chess  players  of  his  time,  had  not  been  engaged  in  the 
dishonourable  work  with  which  he  occasionally  served 
the  Duke. 

Once  having  actually  started  the  game,  the  Duke 
was  no  laggard  :  he  pursued  his  courtship  as  openly  as 
the  lady  could  desire  ;  at  assemblies  he  would  take  her 
aside  and  talk  to  her  alone  in  the  sight   of  all  the 


i6o    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

world.  Says  Pepys :  "  Good  Mr.  Evelyn  cries  out 
against  it  and  calls  it  bickering  ;  for  the  Duke  of  York 
talks  a  little  to  her,  and  then  she  goes  away,  and  then 
he  follows  her  again  like  a  dog."  This  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  Great  Fire,  and  it  might  have  been 
thought  that  even  a  Royal  Duke  could  have  found 
something  better  to  do  in  such  a  terrible  emergency. 
But  the  evils  of  the  Court  appear  to  have  afflicted 
every  one  with  a  wonderful  callousness.  The  nobility 
held  aloof  in  the  country,  offering  no  help,  either  to 
comfort  the  King  or  to  put  heart  into  the  people, 
or  to  guard  against  robberies  and  commotions.  No 
priest  went  to  the  King  or  Court  to  give  good  counsel, 
or  to  comfort  the  suffering  poor.  "  All  is  dead, 
nothing  of  good  in  any  of  their  minds."  Thus  said 
Evelyn  in  a  desponding  mood,  and  we  are  glad  to 
know  that  Charles  was  better  than  his  people  at  this 
crisis,  that  he  stayed  in  London,  went  to  the  burning 
districts,  personally  conducted  rescues  and  escapes, 
advised  about  blowing  up  houses,  and  is  said  by 
his  foresight  to  have  saved  the  Tower  from  destruc- 
tion. 

Lady  Denham  naturally  wished  to  do  what  she 
could  for  the  man  who  had  first  introduced  her  to 
Court ;  and  so  she  became  a  great  advocate  of  Lord 
Bristol's  schemes,  which  very  \  much  annoyed  the 
Duke,  for  he  had  no  belief  in  mixing  love  and 
business.  Thus  it  became  whispered  abroad  that  he 
was  less  in  her  company,  and  that  she  was  much 
upset  by  it. 

As  for  Sir  John  Denham,  he  went  through  every 
phase  of  jealousy.  He  knew  that  he  was  laughed  at, 
not  only  by  his  friends,  but  by  the  public  generally. 


MARGARET   BROOKE  i6i 

as  an  old  man  who  was  obliged  to  be  complaisant  about 
the  sins  o£  his  pretty  young  wife,  and  unlike  Lord 
Chesterfield,  he  could  think  of  no  way  of  stopping  the 
intrigue.  He  brooded  and  grew  strange  in  his  manner, 
and  at  last  determined  to  take  a  journey  to  see  some 
freestone  quarries  at  Portland,  in  Dorset.  History 
records  that  the  first  proof  of  his  madness  was  that  he 
posted  to  within  a  mile  of  the  place,  and  then  would  go 
no  farther,  but  drove  back  to  London  without  seeing 
the  quarries.  It  may  have  been  that  the  long  solitary 
journey  had  allowed  his  brain  to  run  riot  over  his 
dishonour,  and  the  object  of  his  travels  became  of 
no  account.  On  returning  to  London  he  went  to 
Hounslow,  and  demanded  rents  of  lands  that  he  had 
sold  many  years  before  ;  and  when  he  saw  the  King 
told  him  that  he  was  the  Holy  Ghost.  Aubrey  states 
that  this  interval  of  madness  was  caused  by  his  wife's 
conduct,  but  there  are  clumsy  lines  in  Andrew  Mar- 
veil's  satire  on  the  palace  which  Clarendon  was  build- 
ing which  hint  that  his  illness  was  due  to  a  blow  from 
a  brickbat. 

'*Thus  daily  his  gouty  inventions  him  pained, 

And  ail  for  to  save  the  expenses  of  brickbat ; 
That  engine  so  fatal  which  Denham  had  brained, 
And  too  much  resembled  his  wife's  chocolat." 

Whatever  the  cause,  the  madness  did  not  last  long  ; 
then,  while  he  was  convalescent,  his  wife  fell  ill. 

Lady  Denham  had  clung  pertinaciously  to  her  desire 
to  be  given  a  post  in  the  Duchess's  household,  and 
when  a  place  as  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber  fell  vacant 
she  demanded  it.  The  Duke  promised  that  she  should 
have  it,  and  insisted  upon  this  with  Anne.  She  naturally 
refused   to   agree   to   the   arran2;ement  ;     it   was   bad 


i62    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

enough  to  have  rivals  outside  her  home,  or  to  have 
more  or  less  insignificant  rivals  inside,  but  to  admit 
into  her  household  in  a  familiar  capacity  a  beautiful, 
pushing  young  woman  who  had  shown  so  strong  a 
determination  to  secure  the  Duke's  affections  was  too 
much  for  her  patience  ;  she  absolutely  refused  to  be 
a  party  to  such  a  plan.  At  this  critical  time  in  the 
quarrel  Lady  Denham  was  seized  with  a  violent  and 
painful  illness,  so  that  every  one  believed  she  was 
at  the  point  of  death.  In  the  midst  of  her  pain  she 
cried  out  that  she  had  been  poisoned,  and  every  one 
repeated  this  idea.  However,  a  few  days  later,  that  is 
to  say  on  November  12th,  1666,  she  was  recovering, 
though  she  still  maintained,  even  telling  the  Duke  of 
York  so,  that  she  had  been  poisoned. 

Margaret  Denham  lived  for  two  months  after  being 
taken  ill,  dying  on  January  6th,  1666-j.  The  idea  of 
poison,  which  seems  to  have  died  down,  was  revived, 
and  great  excitement  prevailed.  John  Aubrey  plainly 
says  that  the  poison  was  administered  in  a  cup  of 
chocolate  by  the  Countess  of  Rochester.  Gramont 
is  just  as  exact  in  fastening  the  guilt  of  her  death  upon 
her  husband. 

As  has  been  said,  Gramont  could  never  bring  himself 
to  spoil  a  story  for  the  sake  of  mere  exactitude,  and  if 
there  were  two  opinions  about  a  case  he  would  always 
adopt  the  more  dramatic ;  therefore  his  assertion  of 
Denham's  wickedness  is  no  reason  for  our  believing 
it.  His  description,  however,  is  picturesque  enough 
to  be  given  in  his  own  words  : 

"  His  wife  was  young  and  handsome,  he  old  and 
disagreeable  :  what  reason,  then,  had  he  to  flatter  him- 


MARGARET   BROOKE  163 

self  that  Heaven  would  exempt  him  from  the  fate 
of  husbands  in  the  like  circumstances  ?  This  he  was 
continually  saying  to  himself  ;  but,  when  compli- 
ments were  poured  in  upon  him  from  all  sides,  upon 
the  place  his  lady  was  going  to  have  near  the  duchess's 
person,  he  formed  ideas  of  what  was  sufficient  to  have 
made  him  hang  himself,  if  he  had  possessed  the  resolu- 
tion. The  traitor  chose  rather  to  exercise  his  courage 
against  another.  He  wanted  precedents  for  putting 
in  practice  his  resentments  in  a  privileged  country  ; 
that  of  Lord  Chesterfield  was  not  sufficiently  bitter 
for  the  revenge  he  meditated  :  besides,  he  had  no 
country  house  to  which  he  could  carry  his  unfortunate 
wife.  This  being  the  case,  the  old  villain  made  her 
travel  a  much  longer  journey  without  stirring  out  of 
London.  Merciless  fate  robbed  her  of  life,  and  of 
her  dearest  hopes,  in  the  bloom  of  youth." 

Whether  there  was  or  was  not  truth  in  the  belief 
that  poison  was  given  there  was  a  wave  of  public 
indignation  concerning  Lady  Denham's  death  ;  some 
regarding  her  husband  as  the  murderer,  and  some 
boldly  stating  that  Anne  of  York  had  inspired  the 
deed.  Lampoons  were  written,  and  shouted  in  the 
streets ;  a  libel  accusing  Anne  was  affixed  to  her  palace 
door.  Two  days  after  Lady  Denham's  death  Lord 
Conway  wrote  that  she  was  "  poisoned,  as  she  said 
herself,  in  a  cup  of  chocolate.  The  Duke  of  York 
was  very  sad,  and  kept  his  chambers  when  I  went  to 
visit  him."  A  Key  to  Count  Qramont^s  Memoirs, 
published  a  year  later  than  the  book  itself,  gives  the 
information  that  "  the  Duchess  of  York  was  strongly 
suspected   of  having  poisoned   her  with   powder  of 


i64    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

diamonds."  Crowds  gathered  round  Sir  John's  house, 
and  Gramont  asserts  that  their  purpose  was  to  tear 
him  to  pieces  as  soon  as  he  came  abroad.  But  he  shut 
himself  up  to  bewail  his  wife's  death,  and  appeased 
the  people  by  giving  her  a  magnificent  funeral  in  the 
chancel  of  St.  Margaret's  at  Westminster,  and  by 
distributing  four  times  more  burnt  wine  than  had 
ever  been  drunk  at  any  funeral  in  England  before. 
The  Duke  further  declared  that  never  again  would  he 
own  a  mistress  publicly,  upon  which  Pepys  comments, 
"  which  I  shall  be  glad  of,  and  would  the  King  would 
do  the  like." 

That  many  people  thoroughly  believed  Lady  Den- 
ham  to  have  been  poisoned  is  shown  by  the  references 
in  contemporary  literature.  One  writer,  Henry  New- 
come,  says  that  a  little  later  the  Duchess  of  York  was 
"  troubled  with  the  apparition  of  the  Lady  Denham, 
and  through  anxiety  bit  off  a  piece  of  her  tongue  "  ; 
and  Marvell  refers  to  the  subject  more  than  once. 

"  Express  her  [Anne]  studying  now,  if  China  clay 
Can,  without  breaking,  venomed  juice  convey  : 
Or  how  a  mortal  poison  she  may  draw 
Out  of  the  cordial  meal  of  the  cocoa." 

Again,  he  speaks  of  her  trying  forbidden  arts  when 
she  finds  "  herself  scorned  for  emulous  Denham's 
face."  Also,  when  her  baby  son,  the  Duke  of  Kendal, 
died,  at  a  time  when  his  brother  was  mortally  ill,  he 
published  the  epigram  : 

"  Kendal  is  dead,  and  Cambridge  riding  post, 
What  fitter  sacrifice  for  Denham's  ghost  ?  " 

The  Duchess  must  have  suffered  considerably  at 


MARGARET   BROOKE  165 

being  so  lightly  accused,  but  accusations  fell  more 
easily  then  than  they  do  now,  for  there  was  no  law  of 
libel,  and  speech  was  as  much  plainer  as  dress  was 
more  magnificent.  When  all  had  been  said  and  written, 
there  was  no  proof  that  Lady  Denham  had  not  died 
from  natural  causes,  the  autopsy  held  by  her  own  in- 
structions betraying  no  trace  of  poison.  The  Earl  of 
Ossory  wrote  on  January  25th  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond  : 
"  My  Lady  Denham's  body  at  her  own  desire  was 
opened,  but  no  sign  of  poison  found."  There  seems 
to  have  been  only  her  own  excited  imagination  to  give 
utterance  and  lend  weight  to  the  suspicion. 

Sir  John  Denham  died  a  little  more  than  two  years 
after  his  wife,  in  March,  1669,  at  the  age  of  fifty- 
three.  His  intellect  was  still  keen  and  he  wrote  an 
elegy  upon  Cowley's  death,  which  showed  no  sign  of 
failing  powers  ;  he  had  also  a  sufficiently  large  fortune 
to  live  at  ease,  but  he  was  not  a  favourite  at  Court, 
for  there  was  an  idea  that  he  was  still  mad,  and  the 
poor  man  was  reduced  to  feeling  gratitude  towards 
any  one  who  would  talk  with  him.  His  burial-place 
was  in  Westminster  Abbey,  near  the  monument  of 
Geoffrey  Chaucer.  Aubrey  gives  a  quaint  description 
of  his  appearance  during  the  last  part  of  his  life.  He 
was  tall,  round-shouldered,  and  delicate  ;  his  hair  was 
thin,  flaxen  and  having  a  moist  curl ;  his  eye  was  of  a 
kind  of  light  goose-grey,  not  big,  but  possessed  of  a 
strange  piercingness,  as  though  he  could  see  into  your 
very  thoughts.  Serious  as  he  was  in  character  he  had 
been  even  more  rollicking  than  most  men  in  his  youth, 
for  there  is  on  record  one  occasion  on  which,  after 
staying  too  late  at  a  tavern,  he  secured  a  plasterer's 


i66    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

brush  and  a  large  pot  of  ink,  with  which  as  he  went 
down  the  Strand,  from  Temple  Bar  to  Charing  Cross, 
he  blotted  out  all  the  signs.  He  was  discovered  as 
the  author  of  this  joke,  fined,  and  solemnly  warned 
as  to  his  future  behaviour. 


CHAPTER    IX 
FRANCES   BROOKE,   LADY  WHITMORE 

"  The  Cause  of  love  can  never  be  assigned, 
'Tis  in  no  face,  but  in  the  lover's  mind." — Dry  den. 

It  may  well  cause  wonder  how  it  was  that  of  two 
girls  brought  up  in  exactly  similar  circumstances  one 
was  so  thoroughly  bent  on  a  life  of  pleasure,  while 
the  other  seems  to  have  renounced  it,  excepting  in  its 
most  innocent  form,  after  the  first  introduction.  Was 
it  only  temperament,  or  was  it  that  the  younger  of 
the  two  was  so  much  more  fascinating  than  the  other  ? 
Judging  from  her  portrait,  Frances  Brooke  must  have 
been  a  woman  of  somewhat  determined  character  and 
marked  individuality,  and  she  probably  had  quite 
enough  sense  to  know  on  which  side  of  life  lay  the 
best  things.  She  must  have  been  nearly  twenty-five 
when  she  married  a  man  whose  name  is  scarcely  met 
with  in  the  chronicles  of  Court  circles,  though  he  was 
made  a  Knight  of  the  Bath  at  the  Coronation  of 
Charles  II.  This  was  Sir  Thomas  Whitmore,  of 
Bridgnorth,  second  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Whitmore, 
Bart.,  of  Apley  Park,  in  Shropshire.  Of  this  marriage 
there  were  three  daughters  born,  the  second  of  whom, 
Frances,  was  one  of  Kneller's  Beauties,  and  will  be 
met  with  in  later  pages.  Sir  Thomas  Whitmore  died 
in  1682,  being  buried  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.    Of  the 

167 


i68    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

marriage  we  have  just  these  bare  facts  and  nothing 
more. 

And  really  nothing  more  substantial  can  be  said  of 
Frances  Brooke's  second  marriage,  excepting  that 
though  both  bride  and  groom  were  middle-aged  there 
seems  to  have  been  a  deep  love  between  them.  The 
second  husband  was  Mathew  Harvey,  of  Twickenham, 
who  was  probably  even  more  of  a  stranger  to  Court 
life  than  was  Sir  Thomas  Whitmore.  He  was  pos- 
sessed of  no  title,  though  he  had  both  a  brother  and  a 
cousin  who  had  received  the  honour  of  knighthood  ; 
but  there  was  fame  of  a  far  higher  kind  in  his  family, 
for  he  was  the  nephew  of  the  great  Harvey  who  dis- 
covered the  secret  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 

That  Mathew  Harvey  and  his  wife  passed  a  few 
years  together  in  a  happy  domestic  fashion  can  scarcely 
be  doubted,  and  then  Frances  died  at  the  age  of 
about  fifty,  being  buried  in  Twickenham  Church  on 
May  15  th,  1690,  her  body  lying  close  beneath  the 
pew  in  which  she  and  her  husband  had  so  often  sat 
side  by  side.  A  monument,  in  the  form  of  an  urn 
made  of  veined  marble  standing  upon  a  pedestal,  was 
raised  to  her  memory.  On  each  side  of  the  pedestal 
were  carved  the  arms  of  Harvey  and  Brooke,  and  on 
the  front  of  it  was  an  epitaph  written  by  Dryden, 
who  was  moved  either  by  his  friendship  for  Harvey 
or  his  admiration  for  Frances,  and  in  which  he  bore 
witness — as  all  such  epitaphs  do — to  her  virtues, 
though  in  a  simple,  dignified  way  which  is  not  frequent 
on  the  tombstones  of  the  period. 

"  Fair,  kind  and  true,  a  treasure  each  alone, 
A  wife,  a  mistress  and  a  friend  in  one, 
Rest  in  this  tomb,  rais'd  at  thy  husband's  cost. 
Here  sadly  summing  what  he  had  and  lost. 


Frances  Brooke,  Ladv  Whiimork 
iA/tcr  Lely) 


[to    I-ACK    I'ACiK    168 


FRANCES    BROOKE  169 

Come,  Virgins,  ere  in  equal  bands  ye  join, 
Come  first,  and  offer  at  her  sacred  shrine  ; 
Pray  but  for  half  the  virtues  of  this  wife. 
Compound  for  all  the  rest,  v/ith  longer  life  ; 
And  wish  your  vows,  like  hers,  may  be  return'd, 
So  lov'd  when  living,  and  when  dead  so  mourn'd." 

There  is  neither  date  nor  name  to  this  part  of  the 
monument ;  as  though  the  bereaved  man  thought  it 
needless  for  his  own  sake  to  mark  his  wife's  tomb 
more  particularly,  for  he  could  never  forget  where 
she  lay.  On  his  death,  in  1693,  an  inscription  record- 
ing the  event  was  chiselled  on  the  back  and  right  side 
of  the  pedestal. 

In  his  will  Mr.  Harvey  desired  to  be  buried  under 
his  pew,  close  to  his  wife's  grave  and  coffin,  his  head 
to  her  feet,  the  cost  not  to  be  more  than  ^150.  He 
left  ;^ioo  to  the  poor  in  Twickenham  on  condition 
that  the  parish  kept  in  repair  the  monument  he  had 
erected  to  his  wife.  It  is  said  that  the  devotion  of  his 
housekeeper  to  Lady  Whitmore  in  her  last  illness  was 
partly  responsible  for  the  fact  that  he  left  his  estates 
to  that  sympathetic  woman,  and  it  is  not  unlikely 
that  the  fact  that  he  had  no  children  made  it  easy  for 
him  to  do  this.  Since  those  far-away  days  the  monu- 
ment has  been  moved  from  its  old  place  in  the  body 
of  the  church  and  placed  at  the  head  of  one  of  the 
stairs  to  the  gallery. 

As  far  as  can  be  judged — for  in  these  memoirs  there 
is  no  saying  what  exciting  episodes  took  place  in  those 
years  of  which  there  is  no  record — the  lives  of  the 
two  sisters  touched  the  extremes  in  human  fate. 
The  one  unprincipled,  light  in  love,  seeking  shame 
publicly,  her  name  both  in  life  and  in  death  on  the 
lips  of  all ;   the  other  unknown  except  by  a  few,  and 


170    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

unsung  except  by  the  best  poet  of  the  day,  who, 
though  he  had  stigmatized  the  vices  of  his  age  in 
many  a  drama,  could  only  speak  of  her  in  loving 
honour. 

There  has  been  a  curious  divergence  of  opinion 
concerning  the  portrait  of  Lady  Whitmore,  the 
original  of  which  is  in  Hampton  Court.  Mrs.  Jameson 
wrote  in  her  book  of  biographies :  "When  the  accom- 
panying portrait  was  first  copied  and  engraved  for 
publication,  it  was  supposed  to  represent  Frances 
Brooke,  Lady  Whitmore,  the  younger  [should  be 
elder]  sister  of  Lady  Denham  ;  by  which  name  the 
portrait  has  been  traditionally  known  in  the  gallery  at 
Windsor.  But  on  examining  the  duplicate  at  Narford, 
in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Fountaine,  and  referring  to 
the  authority  of  Horace  Walpole  and  Granger,  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  it  represents  a  woman  much 
more  notorious,  Anne,  Countess  of  Southesk.  By 
this  title  the  picture  has  always  been  distinguished 
at  Narford  since  the  days  of  Sir  Andrew  Fountaine, 
the  first  possessor  and  the  contemporary  of  the  origi- 
nal, and  by  this  name  it  was  recognized  as  the  original 
by  Horace  Walpole.  The  copy  made  in  crayons  by 
his  order  is  now  at  Strawberry  Hill,  and  noted  in 
his  catalogue  as  that  of  Lady  Southesk." 

No  one  seems  to  have  troubled  to  prove  or  contro- 
vert this  decision ;  the  picture  at  Hampton  Court  is 
still  labelled  Frances  Brooke,  but  the  engraving  of 
it  at  the  British  Museum  is  labelled  Anne,  Lady 
Southesk.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Mrs.  Jameson  did  not 
go  quite  far  enough.  She  may  have  superficially 
examined  the  picture  at  Narford,  but  she  could  not 
have  compared  the  two  canvases.     Had  she  done  so 


FRANCES    BROOKE  171 

she  would  have  discovered  that  either  the  copyist 
was  a  practical  joker  or  that  he  had  definite  instruc- 
tions to  do  what  he  did.  He  represented  the  whole 
picture  with  only  some  slight  inaccuracies  about 
small  details ;  the  figure,  the  pose,  the  clothing  are 
all  the  same,  but  the  face  in  one  is  that  of  Frances 
Brooke,  while  the  face  in  the  picture  at  Narford  is 
that  of  Lady  Southesk.  Miss  Brooke  possessed  heavily 
marked  features,  thick  eyebrows,  a  long,  rather  ugly 
nose,  well-formed  but  large  mouth,  and  dark  hair. 
The  picture  at  Narford  is  of  a  woman  with  pretty, 
straight  features,  pencilled  eyebrows,  a  straight  nose, 
a  mouth  small  enough  to  fit  an  infant  of  two  years, 
and  taking  it  altogether  a  baby  face  imbued  with  an 
expression  of  obstinacy  which  we  see  oftenest  in 
childhood. 

Lady  Southesk — the  Anne  Hamilton  so  friendly  in 
her  youth  with  Barbara  Palmer — had  a  particularly 
unsavoury  reputation,  and  by  proving  that  the 
portraits  are  really  different,  we  have  at  least  saved 
this  volume  from  including  a  description  of  another 
sordid,  dull  career  of  flippancy  and  vice. 


CHAPTER   X 

SUSAN    ARMINE,    LADY    BELASYSE 

"  Each  fool,  to  low  ambition,  poorly  great, 
That  pines  in  splendid  wretchedness  of  state, 
Tir'd  in  the  treach'rous  chase,  would  nobly  yield, 
And,  but  for  shame,  like  Sylla,  quit  the  field  : 
The  demon  shame  paints  strong  the  ridicule, 
And  whispers  close,  *  The  world  shall  call  you  fool.^  " 

Pope. 

Of  Lady  Belasyse,  as  of  various  other  of  these  picture- 
gallery  heroines,  history  has  only  recorded  a  few  in- 
cidents in  which  she  had  a  share.  Her  father  was  Sir 
William  Armine,  Bart.,  who  sat  in  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment as  member  for  Cumberland  ;  her  mother  was 
Lady  Anne  Poulet,  daughter  of  the  Marquis  of  Win- 
chester. Sir  William  Armine  died  in  1658,  leaving 
two  daughters,  Anne  and  Susan  ;  and  his  widow,  a 
few  years  later,  married  John,  Baron  Belasyse. 

While  the  family  of  Belasyse  was  flourishing  their 
name  was  spelled  in  at  least  half  a  dozen  different 
ways — Bellassis,  Bellasys,  Bellowsesse,  Belasyse,  being 
a  few, — the  most  correct  of  which  seems  to  be  that  of 
Belasyse,  which  has  been  adopted  here. 

The  two  Armine  girls  were  left,  on  the  death  of  their 
father,  each  with  an  income  of  £1000  a  year,  which 
certainly  added  to  their  attractions.  They  were  not 
good-looking,  but  what  was  lost  in  classical  feature 
was  gained  in  buoyancy  and  vivacity  of  expression. 

172 


Susan  Arviine,  Lady  Bei.asysk,  as  St.  Catherine 
(.-(7.-V-  Leiy-) 


[to  face  page  172 


SUSAN    ARMINE  173 

When  Lord  Belasyse  married  Lady  Armine  he 
already  had  a  son,  Henry,  who  had  just  become  a 
widower,  not  that  he  was  anything  but  a  young  man, 
for  his  marriage  had  been  contracted  in  boyhood. 
The  idea  of  Henry  Belasyse  marrying  his  stepmother's 
daughter  Susan  did  not  arise  for  some  time  ;  when  it 
did  it  had  its  birth  in  expediency.  The  young  man 
was  a  wild,  quarrelsome,  swashbuckling  fellow,  whose 
qualities  may  have  been  those  to  attract  a  very  young 
girl,  who  often  thinks  bravery  the  beginning  and 
ending  of  worth  if  she  is  considering  her  future  hus- 
band. Henry  was  well  liked  by  Sir  John  Reresby, 
and  probably  possessed  that  generosity  of  tempera- 
ment which  often  goes  with  recklessness ;  if  so,  he 
did  not  display  such  a  noble  quality  when  making  his 
second  marriage. 

His  extravagance  in  every  way  landed  him  in  serious 
difficulties,  and  when  he  applied  to  his  father  for 
help  he  received  advice  rather  than  assistance,  and  as 
usual  the  advice  was  unwelcome.  "  The  only  thing 
for  you  to  do,  my  son,  is  to  marry  an  heiress." 

An  heiress !  What  heiress  should  he  marry  ?  There 
was  only  one  woman  in  the  world  for  him,  and  that  was 
Gertrude  Pierrepoint.  He  would  marry  her  and  no 
one  else  !  And  she  was  not  an  heiress.  However,  when 
Gertrude  shook  her  head  at  him,  when  his  creditors 
sought  him  with  unfailing  regularity,  and  his  father 
only  repeated  his  advice  with  added  details,  Henry 
began  to  think  better  of  it.  He  looked  at  Susan  with 
an  appraising  eye  :  she  was  irregular  in  feature,  had 
an  ugly  mouth,  and  was  not  fair, — but  she  had  an 
income  equal  to  ;;^5000  of  the  present-day  money ! 

Lord  and  Lady  Belasyse  arranged  the  whole  affair. 


174    f'ATR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

It  is  not  easy  to  say  how  old  Susan  was,  but  she  could 
scarcely  have  been  over  twenty,  if  she  was  not  some 
years  younger  than  that.  She  must  have  been  young, 
for  she  seems  to  have  had  no  voice  in  the  matter 
when,  in  1664,  she  was  married  to  a  man  who  told  every 
one  quite  plainly  that  though  he  married  Susan  he 
would  never  desist  from  his  pursuit  of  Gertrude,  whom 
he  would  not  give  up  as  long  as  he  lived.  The  foolish 
part  of  this  was  that  Gertrude  did  not  care  a  fig  for 
him.  She  not  only  did  not  respond  to  his  advances, 
but  showed  an  entire  indifference  to  his  wooing.  It 
may  have  been  that  very  indifference  that  kept 
Belasyse  chained  to  her  ;  he  went  where  she  went, 
contrived  to  see  her  in  and  out  of  season,  and  swore 
that  though  he  could  not  marry  her  no  one  else  should. 
And  she,  like  the  good  girl  that  she  was,  "  gave  him 
no  encouragement  in  the  least,  but  was  exactly 
virtuous,  which  made  this  humour  of  his  the  more 
extravagant."  Thus  wrote  his  close  friend  and  con- 
stant companion  Sir  John  Reresby. 

Poor  Susan's  married  life  must  have  been  anything 
but  pleasant,  though  there  was  probably  something 
exciting  in  it,  as  her  husband's  name  is  only  mentioned 
in  the  chronicles  of  the  times  as  either  killing  some 
one  or  trying  to  get  killed.  Nothing  gave  him  such 
joy  as  a  duel. 

Soon  after  his  marriage  a  rumour  went  the  round 
of  aristocratic  circles  that  William  Russell,  second  son 
of  the  Earl  of  Bedford  (who  later  married  Rachel 
Wriothesley,  and  was  so  foully  murdered  by  the  malice 
of  Charles  and  the  brutal  insistence  of  his  tool  Jeffries), 
was  desiring  to  marry  Gertrude  Pierrepoint.  This 
rumour  aroused  all  the  truculence  of  that  very  trucu- 


SUSAN   ARMINE  175 

lent  young  man  Henry  Belasyse,  and  he  promptly 
invented  a  story  that  WilUam  Russell  had  said  insulting 
things  of  him  and  his  friends.  Having  made  this  up 
to  his  satisfaction,  he  at  once  went  into  a  great  rage 
over  it,  and  sent  his  friend  John  Reresby  with  a 
challenge  to  the  innocent  suitor.  Russell  was  thunder- 
struck at  the  accusation  and  seemed  to  lose  sight  of 
the  challenge  and  possible  fight  in  his  concern  at  the 
idea  that  Belasyse  could  even  think  that  he  had  de- 
preciated him,  and  he  naturally  protested  that  he 
had  never  in  his  life  spoken  ill  of  Sir  Henry  or  any  of 
his  friends.  Reresby  knew  that  what  he  said  was  true 
and  went  back  to  argue  the  jealous  man  into  some  sense 
if  possible.  Fortunately  Henry  allowed  himself  to 
be  persuaded,  not  so  much  because  of  Reresby's  elo- 
quence as  because  he  had  heard  that  the  rumour  was 
untrue.  In  spite  of  his  bellicose  actions  and  fiery 
protestations  he  never  gained  the  approval  of  Miss 
Pierrepoint,  who,  though  not  until  after  his  death, 
married  the  Marquis  of  Halifax. 

Years  later,  indeed  in  1680,  Lady  Russell  refers  to 
this  threatened  duel  when  she  includes  in  a  note  to 
her  husband  the  information  that  a  friend  tells  her 
that  Lady  Halifax  (Gertrude  Pierrepoint)  has  lost  no 
beauty  in  the  country,  and  she  (the  friend)  wishes 
particularly  that  he  should  know  it. 

Henry  Belasyse  had  been  made  a  Knight  of  the 
Bath  at  the  Restoration,  and  had  at  once  joined  a 
band  of  young  men  whose  names  were  soon  known 
all  over  London  for  their  unrestrained  wildness.  One 
of  the  worst  acts  of  his  life  took  place  at  the  beginning 
of  1662,  when  he  went  with  a  party  thief-hunting  to 
the  district  around  Waltham  Cross.     His  companions 


176    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

were  Charles, Lord  Buckhurst  (afterwards  Lord  Dorset), 
and  his  brother,  Edward  Sackville  ;  his  own  cousin, 
John  Belasyse,  and  Thomas  Wentworth.  To  try  to 
defeat  the  aims  of  footpads  and  highwaymen  was  well 
enough,  but  to  do  it  in  a  reckless,  adventurous  fashion, 
intent  upon  capturing  some  one  whatever  happened, 
was  a  dangerous  experiment.  They  succeeded  in 
catching  and  killing  an  innocent  tanner  named  Hoppy, 
whose  pockets  they  thoughtfully  rifled.  When  they 
were  soon  after  apprehended  they  seemed  surprised 
that  they  should  be  regarded  as  guilty  of  anything  but 
a  regrettable  mistake.  They  had  taken  the  man  for  a 
robber,  and  regarded  the  money  in  his  pocket  as  stolen 
property  ;  no  one  could  call  such  an  act  on  their  part 
either  robbery  or  murder  !  The  grand  jury  at  the 
trial  found  a  bill  for  manslaughter  only,  and  so  far 
as  the  evidence  goes  the  guilty  ones  were  acquitted 
on  their  excuse. 

We  find  Sir  Henry  in  connection  with  another  duel 
making  mischief  when  drunk,  repeating  a  matter  told 
him  in  confidence  about  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  by 
John  Reresby,  which  caused  "  the  Duke  to  frown 
upon "  the  latter.  Whereupon  Reresby  went  to 
Belasyse,  who  owned  to  saying  something  about  the 
matter  when  in  his  cups,  and  offered  to  deny  stoutly 
that  he  had  heard  the  gossip  from  his  friend,  fixing  it 
upon  another  man  who  had  also  repeated  the  story 
and  could  not  be  troubled  by  the  Duke's  anger. 
Upon  which  Reresby  answered  with  the  veiled  threat 
that  it  became  him  so  ill,  being  the  Duke's  officer,  to 
appear  to  reflect  on  his  captain,  that  if  the  gossip 
was  laid  to  his  charge  it  must  cause  a  quarrel,  and 
"  Sir  Henry  Belasyse  was  the  last  man  I  desired  to 


SUSAN    ARMINE  177 

have  a  difference  with."  Sir  Henry  perjured  his  soul 
bravely,  and  smoothed  matters,  though  the  Duke  still 
suspected  his  inferior  officer.  Shortly  after  this  the 
Duke  was  in  disgrace  with  his  King,  and  Belasyse  took 
him  home  and  hid  him  in  his  own  house,  running 
great  hazard  for  him  in  this  event.  Buckingham  could 
scarcely  have  been  a  good  companion  for  a  young 
wife,  though  he  could  sometimes  ape  a  virtue  he  did 
not  feel. 

There  was  at  least  one  more  duel  which  Belasyse 
had  to  fight,  for  he  was  evidently  determined  to  die 
by  the  sword,  and  was  indifferent  as  to  whether  it  was 
the  sword  of  a  friend  or  a  foe.  On  July  28th,  1667, 
he  and  his  fast  friend  Tom  Porter  dined  with  Sir 
Robert  Carr,  drinking  just  enough  to  make  him  talk 
nonsense  and  think  himself  a  very  fine  fellow.  His 
friend  Tom  was  in  the  same  condition,  and  the  two 
argued  together  in  such  loud  voices  that  the  other 
guests  turned  to  look  at  them  with  questioning  won- 
der.   "  Are  they  quarrelling  ?  "  said  some  one  aloud. 

"  Quarrelling  ?  "  shouted  Henry.  "  I  would  have 
you  know  that  I  7iever  quarrel.  I  strike  !  And  you 
may  take  that  as  a  rule  of  mine." 

"  How  !  Strike  !  "  repHed  Tom  Porter.  "  I  should 
like  to  see  the  man  in  England  who  would  dare  to 
strike  me  !  " 

He  had  not  to  wait  for  the  fulfilment  of  his  wish. 
His  dear  friend  at  once  gave  him  a  sounding  box  on 
the  ear,  and  out  flashed  Porter's  sword.  But  re- 
straining hands  pulled  the  two  silly  men  apart,  and 
after  struggling  and  talking  Porter  went  away.  In 
the  street  he  met  Dryden  the  poet,  and  told  him, 
excitedly,  all  that  had  happened,  saying  that  he  was 

M 


1 78    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

resolved  to  fight  Belasyse  at  once,  for  if  he  waited 
until  the  next  day  they  could  not  help  but  patch  up 
the  quarrel,  and  then  the  blow  would  rest  upon  him. 
So  he  begged  Dryden  to  lend  him  the  boy  who  was 
with  him  to  stand  at  Sir  Robert  Carr's  door  to  watch 
which  way  Belasyse  went,  and  then  run  to  tell  him. 
He  himself  went  to  waste  the  time  at  a  coffee-house, 
and  presently  in  ran  the  boy,  saying  that  the  baronet's 
coach  was  coming.  Porter  walked  out  of  the  coffee- 
house and  stopped  the  coach,  ordering  his  friend  to 
come  out  of  it. 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Sir  Henry.  "  You  will  not  strike  as 
I  come  out,  will  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Porter  grimly. 

So  Belasyse  stepped  into  the  road  and  flung  away 
the  scabbard  of  his  sword. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  cried  Porter.  And  then  they 
started  fighting,  surrounded  by  friends  who  had  been 
lounging  in  the  coffee-house.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
were  both  wounded,  and  Belasyse  was  so  badly  hurt 
that  he  called  Tom  to  him,  while  dropping  his  sword. 
Supporting  himself  by  his  friend's  shoulder,  he  kissed 
him,  saying  : 

"  Go,  Tom,  save  yourself,  for  you  have  hurt  me 
to  death  ;  but  I  will  make  shift  to  stand  upon  my 
legs  until  you  are  safely  away,  then  no  one  will  stop 
you  ;  and  I  would  not  have  you  get  into  trouble  for 
what  you  have  done." 

Tom  told  Belasyse  that  he  too  was  wounded  and 
could  not  go  far.  So  both  men  were  taken  to  their 
homes  in  very  bad  case.  Tom  Porter  recovered  and 
fled,  but  Belasyse  lingered  for  nine  days  before  he 
died.     Of  the  event  Pepys  says  :    "  It  is  pretty  to  see 


SUSAN    ARMINE  179 

how  the  world  talks  of  them  as  a  couple  of  fools  that 
killed  one  another  out  of  love."  Reresby,  who  truly 
mourned  his  friend,  notes  bitterly  that  Buckingham 
(again  in  Royal  favour)  neither  went  to  Belasyse  in  his 
illness  nor  sent  to  inquire  of  him,  though  he  owed  him 
much,  and  all  for  some  slight  unwarranted  jealousy 
which  he  felt  about  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury. 

Susan,  who  had  by  this  time  developed  into  a 
woman  of  noble  proportions,  was  now,  in  the  flush 
of  young  womanhood,  a  widow  with  one  son,  and 
after  her  mourning  was  over  she  became  a  well-known 
figure  at  Court. 

Burnet  and  Granger  both  emphasize  the  fact  that 
she  was  not  beautiful ;  "  she  was  one  of  the  least 
handsome  women  who  appeared  at  Court,"  but  she 
"  was  remarkable  for  a  vivacity  which  seems  to  have 
supplied  the  place,  and  answered  all  the  purposes  of 
beauty."  The  Duke  of  York,  who  was  won  far  more 
quickly  by  wit  than  by  prettiness,  was  soon  attracted 
by  her,  and  hovered  in  her  vicinity,  that  he  could 
enjoy  her  bright  repartees.  When  his  Duchess  died, 
in  1 67 1,  he  found  consolation  in  Susan's  society,  and 
gradually  began  to  rely  upon  her  judgment  and 
sympathy.  Thus  when  the  first  rumour  arose  that 
the  new  Duchess  would  be  a  Princess  of  Modena  a 
contemporary  wrote  :  "  Though  the  women  will  not 
believe  but  that  my  Lady  Belasyse  shall  be  the  person, 
His  Royal  Highness,  wheresoever  he  meets  her,  enter- 
taining her  with  a  particular  esteem." 

As  a  mere  matter  of  business  it  was  recognized  by 
all  that  James  must  take  a  second  wife,  and  while  his 
brother  and  his  ministers  were  searching  Europe  for 
a  bride  he  was  making  ardent  love  to  Susan  Belasyse. 


i8o    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

She  may  have  withstood  him  at  first,  but  in  the  end 
she  capitulated,  though  not  until,  having  taken  a  hint 
from  the  Duke's  previous  history,  she  had  secured  from 
him  a  written  promise  o£  marriage.  The  one  thing 
which  stood  between  them  personally  was  the  fact 
that  Lady  Belasyse  was  a  thoughtful  Protestant,  while 
James  was  certain  that  Roman  Catholicism  was  the 
only  true  faith.  He  did  his  utmost  to.  convert  her, 
and  she  retaliated  with  such  good  result  that  papists 
took  alarm.  Her  late  husband's  family  were  all 
Catholics,  and  Lord  Belasyse  learned  of  the  serious 
nature  of  the  Duke's  infatuation  through  some  words 
used  by  Susan.  He  was  greatly  perturbed  and  deter- 
mined to  upset  the  scheme.  The  Duke  of  York  had 
been  going  to  Susan's  house  over-often  in  the  warmth 
of  his  love — that  love  which  had  been  rechauffeed  so 
many  times  that  surely  all  flavour  had  gone  from  it  ! — 
so  the  lady's  relatives  and  friends  took  it  upon  them- 
selves to  talk  seriously  to  her.  When  the  advice  be- 
came reproach,  and  then  dictation,  Susan  lost  her 
temper  and  her  discretion,  and  replied  angrily  that 
if  the  Duke  did  come  often  to  her  house  she  could 
prove  that  his  intentions  were  honourable. 

If  she  had  been  a  weaker  person  her  boast  might 
have  been  passed  over  with  indifference,  but  she  had 
a  reputation  for  being  determined,  "  intractable " 
Bishop  Burnet  called  it ;  so  her  worthy  and  zealous 
father-in-law  felt  that  if  she  gained  a  dominant  in- 
fluence over  the  future  King  of  England,  it  would  be 
all  over  with  papacy.  In  his  alarm  he  went  to  Charles 
and  laid  the  whole  affair  before  him,  making  zeal  for 
the  King  and  for  the  honour  of  the  Duke  his  excuse. 

Charles  determined  to  nip  that  romance,  if  not  in 


SUSAN    ARMINE  i8i 

the  bud,  certainly  before  it  came  to  its  full  growth, 
so  he  sent  for  his  brother  and  first  had  a  long  talk 
with  him  and  then  laid  upon  him  his  commands. 
"  It  was  too  much,"  he  said,  "  that  James  had  played 
the  fool  once  ;  he  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  do  it  a 
second  time,  and  at  his  age  !  " 

Feeling  assured  of  his  brother's  obedience  he  next 
attacked  the  lady.  Here  he  met  with  a  greater  resist- 
ance, for  Susan  flatly  refused  to  give  up  the  written 
document  she  had  obtained  from  James  ;  though  how 
any  woman  could  wish  to  marry  a  man  with  such  a  repu- 
tation as  he  had  acquired  it  is  difficult  to  understand. 
For  the  sake  of  a  few  baubles,  for  a  few  years  of  sham 
magnificence,  to  accept  such  a  terrible  life  as  had 
been  led  by  Anne,  inwardly  beset  with  fears  and 
dismay,  with  diseased  children  dying  almost  as  soon 
as  born,  and  if  they  lived  a  year  or  two  passing  their 
baby  days  in  pain  and  suffering  —  to  risk  all  this  in 
exchange  for  a  wholesome  existence  in  wealth  and 
comfort  shows,  if  not  the  depravity  of  the  individual, 
at  least  the  horror  of  the  social  system  which  could 
make  it  possible  that  any  woman  should  contemplate, 
let  alone  intrigue  for  it. 

Susan  clung  to  her  bond,  and  the  King  was  deter- 
mined to  have  it ;  so  that  at  last  it  came,  not  to  com- 
mands, but  to  threats,  and  to  save  herself  from  the 
results  of  the  King's  anger,  which  at  their  worst  would 
have  been  mercy  compared  with  the  position  of 
Duchess  of  York,  Lady  Belasyse  made  a  compromise 
for  the  sake  of  her  honour.  She  would  give  up  the 
bond  itself,  on  condition  that  she  was  allowed  to  keep 
an  attested  copy  of  it.  After  some  hesitation  this  was 
granted,  and  the  Duke  was  free  to  seek  as  a  wife  a 


i82     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

young  girl  whom  he  jocularly  described  as  a  play- 
fellow for  his  twelve-year-old  daughter.  Charles  was 
pleased  to  show  his  approbation  of  Susan's  sacrifice 
by  making  her,  in  1674,  ^  peeress,  with  the  title  of 
Baroness  Belasyse  of  Osgodby,  as  she  had  succeeded 
to  half  her  father's  estates. 

Susan  showed  her  good  sense  by  accepting  her  defeat 
in  a  philosophic  spirit  and  becoming  one  of  the  young 
Duchess's  ladies.  Later  she  was  present  at  the  birth 
of  that  son  about  whose  parentage  there  were  so  many 
divergent  and  violent  opinions. 

It  is  said  by  Mrs.  Jameson  that  Susan  married  in 
1683  a  man  named  Fortrey,  who  predeceased  her,  but 
we  find  no  mention  of  him  elsewhere.  Henry  Belasyse, 
her  son,  who  succeeded  to  his  father's  title,  died  in 
1690,  leaving  a  widow  who  afterwards  married  the 
Duke  of  Richmond,  son  to  Louise  de  Keroualle.  As 
to  Susan's  death.  Swift  wrote  to  Stella,  under  date 
of  March,  171 2  :  "  You  know  old  Lady  Belasyse  is 
dead  at  last  ?  She  has  left  Lord  Berkeley  of  Stratton 
one  of  her  executors,  and  it  will  be  of  great  advantage 
to  him,  they  say  about  £10,000." 


CHAPTER   XI 

ELIZABETH    WRIOTHESLEY,   COUNTESS    OF 
NORTHUMBERLAND 

"  Mira  can  lay  her  beauty  by, 
Take  no  advantage  of  the  eye  ; 
Quit  all  that  Lely's  art  can  take, 
And  yet  a  thousand  captives  make." 

Edmund  Waller. 

Thomas  Wriothesley,  the  fourth  Earl  of  South- 
ampton, "  that  right  noble  and  virtuous  peer  whose 
loyalty  was  not  more  exemplary  than  his  love  to  his 
country,"  had  two  daughters  by  his  first  marriage, 
and  four  by  his  second.  His  second  daughter  was 
Rachel,  Lady  Russell,  wife  of  that  Earl  so  recklessly 
put  to  death — murdered,  WilHam  Ill's  Parhament 
named  it — by  Charles  II.  The  only  girl  who  survived 
of  the  four  younger  daughters  was  Elizabeth,  the 
subject  of  this  sketch. 

The  first  notable  event  in  those  days  in  a  girl's  life 
was  her  marriage  ;  until  that  occurred  she  was  not 
heard  of,  and  her  education  seems  to  have  been 
generally  of  a  negative  kind.  To  talk  French  was  the 
one  necessary  accomplishment,  but  even  that  many 
of  them  could  not  do.  Had  the  intelligence  of  the 
women  of  the  Stuart  period  been  trained  in  their 
childhood,    there   would   have   been   fewer   immoral 

i8; 


1 84    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

and  unmoral  women.  But  the  poor  girl-child  was  not 
many  years  in  the  world  before  her  parents  began  to 
seek  a  husband  for  her,  that  they  might  settle  her  in 
some  one  else's  hands.  Thus  the  Earl  of  Southampton 
contracted  his  daughter  Audrey  in  marriage  to  Joscelyn, 
Lord  Percy,  the  son  of  the  tenth  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land. But  before  the  marriage  took  place  the  child 
died  while  she  was  thirteen,  causing  the  prospective 
bridegroom's  father  to  remark  that  he  felt  great  regret 
at  her  death  because  she  was  of  a  nature,  temper, 
and  humour  likely  to  make  an  excellent  wife.  It 
seems  to  have  been  the  one  idea  in  society  then,  that 
girls  should  marry  young  and  become  excellent 
wives.  As  there  was  also  the  general  idea  that  for 
this  end  neither  brains,  learning,  nor  training  were 
necessary,  only  a  pleasing  face,  a  pleasing  manner, 
and  a  fortune,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  when 
the  girl-wife  grew  older  her  starved  capacities  and 
nature  revenged  themselves  upon  the  stupidity  of  her 
elders  and  developed  the  lower  qualities  inherent 
in  all. 

As  the  youthful  Joscelyn  was  now  left  without  a 
prospective  wife,  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  look 
for  some  one  else,  and  when  so  many  excellent  family 
arrangements  had  been  made,  it  was  surely  a  pity  to 
break  through  them.  Lord  Southampton  had  other 
daughters,  and  so  Elizabeth  was  in  turn  betrothed 
to  this  scion  of  the  Percy  line,  who  received  her  the 
more  eagerly  that  she  was  now  sole  heiress  to  the 
estates  of  her  mother's  father,  Lord  Chichester. 

The  two  young  people,  he  of  the  mature  age  of 
eighteen  and  she  fourteen,  were  married  in  1662, 
though  they  did  not  set  up  house  together  until  a  year 


Kli/.aiikhi  Wkmihki^i.kv,  Ci.u  n  i  k.-^s  of  Nortiiumkerland 

{After  Leiy-) 

[to  face  I  ace  184 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  185 

or  two  later.  Their  first  child,  a  girl  named  Elizabeth, 
was  born  in  1666,  and  she  was  followed  by  a  boy  and 
another  girl,  the  latter  dying  almost  as  soon  as  she 
drew  breath.  At  this  point  the  history  of  the  young 
wife,  who  had  just  become  the  Countess  of  North- 
umberland, gets  confused,  one  writer  saying  that  she 
had  a  long  illness  consequent  upon  the  loss  of  her 
children  and  was  taken  abroad  by  her  husband  to 
recover.  But  there  is  a  letter  written  by  Henry  Sidney, 
of  whom  we  have  already  heard  and  who  still  further 
figures  in  these  pages,  which  throws  a  very  different 
complexion  upon  the  going  abroad,  and  gives  definite 
form  to  a  rumour  which  connected  her  name  with 
that  of  the  King. 

The  birth  of  Elizabeth's  third  child,  its  death  and 
that  of  the  little  boy  took  place  in  1669,  and  in 
February,  1670,  Sidney  wrote  to  her  sister,  then  Lady 
Vaughan,  but  later  Lady  Russell,  that  "  my  Lady 
Northumberland  is  grown  so  flippant  since  her  adven- 
ture at  Court  (of  which  she  has  already  informed 
your  Ladyship),  that  now  she  trips  it  every  day 
in  St.  James's  Park,  meets  the  person  you  wot  of, 
and  ogles  and  curtsies  do  pass  at  that  rate  that  her 
friends,  knowing  not  what  to  make  of  it,  only  pray 
that  her  honour  may  be  safe."  The  "  person  "  was 
Charles  H,  and  her  friends,  particularly  her  hus- 
band, were  so  alarmed  that  he  whisked  his  wife  off 
to  go  ostensibly  on  the  Continent.  That  Lord 
Northumberland  was  in  no  great  anxiety  about  her 
physical  health  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  he  settled 
EHzabeth  in  Paris  and  went  off  by  himself  for  a  tour 
to  Italy.  There,  poor  fellow,  he  contracted  a  fever, 
of  which  he  died  at  Turin  in  IMay,  1670.    With  him 


1 86    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

ended  the  long  line  of  the  House  of  Northumberland, 
excepting  for  his  little  daughter. 

Infant  marriages  had  a  bad  effect  upon  the  standard 
of  life  in  that  they  cheapened  marriage.  No  sooner 
did  a  man  or  woman  die  than  his  or  her  bereaved 
partner  looked  around  for  a  new  mate  ;  with  many  the 
marriage  state  awakened  no  more  sentiment  than  any 
other  business  arrangement,  and  though  there  is  no 
record  left  us  of  the  ideas  and  feelings  of  the  young 
widowed  Countess,  there  is  little  doubt  but  that 
many  suitors  at  once  came  forward  for  her  hand,  for 
six  thousand  a  year  in  those  days  was  a  very  good 
additional  income.  She  kept  some  establishment 
in  Paris,  but  came  back  to  England  soon  after  her 
husband's  death. 

There  is  an  absurd  story  told  in  the  Hatton  corre- 
spondence of  how  Harry  Savile,  brother  to  the  Marquis 
of  Halifax  and  Vice-Chamberlain  to  Charles,  made 
her  an  offer  of  his  heart.  The  Sunderlands  had  a 
number  of  people  staying  with  them  at  Althorp, 
among  them  being  Savile  and  the  Countess.  One 
night,  when  the  house  was  all  quiet,  Savile,  passing 
the  lady's  room,  saw  the  door  open,  so  went  in  and 
up  to  her  bedside,  "  and  there  he  calls  Madam  ! 
Madam  !  till  he  wakens  her,  and  says  that  he  came  to 
acquaint  her  with  a  passion  he  had  long  had,  in  the 
dark,  for  he  durst  not  own  it  to  her  in  the  light. 
She,  being  mightily  amazed  to  hear  his  voice,  rung 
a  bell  by  her  bedside  ;  upon  which  presently  her 
women  in  the  next  room  began  to  stir.  He  begged 
her  not  to  discover  him,  and  so  went  away."  The 
Countess  went  to  Lady  Ashley's  room  and  told  her 
about  it ;    they  then  sent  Will  Russell,  who  went  to 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  187 

Harry  Savile  and  warned  him  to  quit  the  house  at 
once.  In  the  morning  he  and  Lord  Sunderland 
rode  after  him  to  fight  him,  but  the  King  prevented 
it,  and  the  foolish  young  man  wisely  disappeared  for  a 
time. 

Mrs.  Jameson,  who  loved  sentiment  better  than 
history,  suggests  that  the  flirtation  with  the  King 
happened  now,  only  the  advances  were  all  on  one  side, 
and  the  lady  to  preserve  her  self-respect  fled  again 
to  Paris.  But  there  is  no  evidence  to  be  found, 
and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  this  little  Royal  affair 
began  and  ended  early  in  the  year.  No  woman  could 
look  at  the  King  with  any  favour  without  at  once 
having  her  reputation  somewhat  tarnished,  and  there 
seemed  to  be  with  these  pretty  women  a  regular 
progression  of  events  in  these  matters ;  for  first 
they  allowed  Charles  to  ogle  them,  and  then  James. 
Lady  Northumberland  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 
It  was  said  that  she  aspired  to  fill  the  place  so  lately 
vacated  by  the  Duchess  Anne.  Charles,  James 
himself,  Louis  XIV  with  all  his  counsellors,  and 
Louis  de  Keroualle,  all  were  hunting  through  Europe 
for  a  suitable  mate  for  the  Duke,  and  all  the  Catholic 
ladies  at  the  Court  were  preening  themselves  on 
their  eligibility,  for  had  not  the  Duke  said  that  he 
would  only  marry  for  love  ?  Thus  there  was  nothing 
surprising  that  the  Countess  of  Northumberland's 
name  was  included  with  the  rest,  but  the  irresponsible 
and  changeable  Duke  of  Buckingham  put  the  matter 
into  written  words,  and  so  gave  us  the  evidence. 
Knowing  of  Elizabeth's  ambition,  he  ofliered  to 
persuade  the  King  to  command  James  to  marry  her. 
In  this  scheme  he  included  a  proposition  that  the 


1 88     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

infant  Elizabeth,  Lady  Percy,  should  be  by  the  King 
betrothed  to  Lord  Harry  (Barbara's  second  son),  the 
Duke  of  Grafton. 

Elizabeth  became  so  magnificent  in  dress  as  to  set 
all  tongues  wagging,  and  seeing  that  it  was  now 
generally  known  that  Lady  Belasyse  had  definitely 
withdrawn  her  claim,  every  one  said  that  His  Royal 
Highness  would  marry  the  Countess  of  Northumber- 
land. This  went  so  far  that  it  was  calmly  stated 
that  the  idea  was  much  liked  by  all  the  people  and  the 
Duke's  servants.  Elizabeth's  sister,  Lady  Russell, 
hinted  probably  at  the  same  idea  when  she  wrote  that 
the  Countess  could  not  decide  some  important 
matter  until  she  saw  the  Duke  of  York,  and  that  the 
report  which  she  would  then  receive  "  which  will  be 
to-morrow,  Friday,  will  certainly  make  her  deter- 
mine." 

The  King,  however,  as  has  been  said,  had  no  desire 
that  his  brother  "  should  make  a  fool  of  himself  a 
second  time,"  and  a  little  later  the  Duke  was  married 
by  proxy  to  Mary  of  Modena,  the  announcement 
being  made  to  James  when  surrounded  by  his  friends. 
He  was  talking  in  the  drawing-room,  when  the 
French  ambassador  (Monsieur  de  Croissy)  brought 
the  letters  in  and  told  the  news ;  the  Duke  turned 
about  and  said,  "  Then  I  am  a  married  man !  " 
and  it  was  explained  to  all  present  that  it  was  the 
Princess  of  Modena. 

The  King,  however,  was  very  soft-hearted ;  he 
did  not  like  to  hurt  these  pretty  women  by  autocratic 
measures ;  so  knowing  that  Ralph  Montagu  had 
set  his  heart  on  marrying  the  Countess,  he  promised 
his  consent  to  that  marriage,  and  that  he  would  raise 


ELIZABETH    WRIOTHESLEY  189 

Montagu  as  high  in  dignity  as  her  first  husband  had 
been.  As  for  EHzabeth,  she  felt  that  now  the  only 
thing  to  do  was  to  marry  some  one,  and  yet  she 
hesitated,  for  marriage  did  not  mean  all  gain  to  her. 
A  clause  in  her  late  husband's  will  commanded 
that  if  she  should  remarry  her  little  daughter  should 
be  taken  from  her  and  put  into  the  hands  of  the 
Dowager  Countess,  a  woman  of  strong  will  and  over- 
bearing disposition,  and  Elizabeth  felt  that  she  could 
only  agree  to  run  the  risk  of  this  if  she  could  feel  that 
King  and  Parliament  could  be  called  on  to  defend  a 
mother's  right. 

Ralph  Montagu  had  been  paying  her  his  addresses 
since  the  death  of  the  Earl ;  he  had  been  made 
English  ambassador  at  Paris  in  1669,  his  entry  into 
that  city  being  so  magnificent  that  it  has  scarce  ever 
since  been  equalled.  He  was  that  Montagu  who 
had  unconsciously  stirred  the  Comte  de  Gramont 
to  fresh  exertions  in  the  pursuit  of  Mrs.  Middleton, 
and  who,  according  to  the  lively  Frenchman,  was 
"  no  very  dangerous  rival  on  account  of  his  person, 
but  very  much  to  be  feared  for  his  assiduity,  the 
acuteness  of  his  wit,  and  for  some  other  talents 
which  are  of  importance  when  a  man  is  once  per- 
mitted to  display  them." 

One  of  Montagu's  talents  was  the  power  of  telling 
at  sight  which  woman  had  petticoats  strong  enough 
to  drag  him  upwards  if  he  held  on  to  them.  From 
being  Master  of  the  Horse  to  Anne  of  York,  he  took 
the  same  post  under  Queen  Catherine.  He  made 
himself  'persona  grata  with  the  Duchess  of  Orleans, 
was  present  at  her  death,  and  did  all  he  could  to 
investigate  the  charge  of  poison.     In  Paris  he  could 


190    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

not  fail  to  meet  the  Countess  of  Northumberland, 
and  he  used  all  the  arts  of  sympathy  and  a  show  of 
loyal  friendship  to  attract  her  feelings. 

In  the  winter  of  1672  she  went  to  Aix,  and  he  fol- 
lowed her  there,  intending,  if  his  suit  did  not  prosper, 
to  go  on  a  journey  into  Italy  just  to  prove  to  the 
world  that  he  went  abroad  for  pleasure  and  not  for  the 
sake  of  a  pretty  woman.  However,  if  he  did  not  get 
yea,  he  also  did  not  get  nay,  and  he  returned  to 
Paris  in  the  wake  of  the  Countess. 

Elizabeth  was  one  of  the  unfortunate  children 
who  had  not  even  learned  French,  and  now,  though  she 
lived  among  French  people,  she  would  not  trouble  to 
master  their  language.  Madame  de  la  Fayette  com- 
ments on  this  when  writing  to  Madame  de  Sevigne  in 
April,  1673,  and  also  upon  the  fact  that  she  seems 
to  have  lost  her  good  looks.  "  Madame  de  North- 
umberland came  to  see  me  yesterday  .  .  .  she  seems 
to  be  a  woman  who  has  been  beautiful,  but  who  does 
not  retain  a  single  sign  of  it  upon  her  face,  nor  the 
slightest  air  of  youth  ;  I  was  surprised  at  it ;  she 
was  also  very  badly  dressed,  without  grace ;  indeed,  I 
was  not  at  all  dazzled.  She  seemed  to  understand  all 
that  was  said  very  well,  or  rather  all  that  I  said, 
for  I  was  alone.  .  .  .  Montagu  asked  me  if  she 
might  come  to  see  me,  for  we  have  often  spoken  of 
her  together.  He  is  by  no  means  ashamed  of  his 
wooing,  and  appears  full  of  hope."  Whatever  she 
was  then,  the  Countess  recovered  her  beauty,  for 
Evelyn  speaks  of  her  in  1683  as  "  the  most  beautiful 
Countess  of  Northumberland." 

A  month  later  an  old  attachment  on  Montagu's 
part   for   the  Duchesse  de  Brissac  nearly  broke  off 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  191 

the  match  by  reason  of  the  Countess's  jealousy. 
"  Montagu  has  gone  away,"  wrote  Madame  de  la 
Fayette.  "  It  is  said  that  all  his  hopes  are  overthrown  ; 
I  believe  something  has  transpired  to  upset  the 
lady." 

At  this  point  the  Countess  came  home  to  make  her 
attack  upon  the  heart  of  James,  Duke  of  York,  and 
in  a  short  time  Montagu  followed  her  to  England. 
The  King's  promise  and  good  will  weighed  heavily 
in  the  matter,  and  Elizabeth  went  down  to  Litchfield, 
her  own  estate  in  Hampshire,  in  August,  1673. 
There  were  many  rumours,  first  that  she  was  married, 
then  that  she  was  not,  but  at  last  the  deed  was  done. 
Lord  Montagu  settled  ;f2000  a  year  upon  his  son, 
and  Elizabeth  settled  her  estate  upon  her  husband  for 
his  life,  if  she  had  no  other  children.  The  day  after 
the  wedding  the  Dowager  Countess  sent  to  claim  her 
grandchild.  Elizabeth  refused  to  part  with  her,  and 
the  expected  battle  began.  Rumour  betrothed  the 
little  one  straight  away  to  Lord  Harry  (Grafton)  and 
made  the  Countess  a  Duchess. 

Before  the  second  month  of  the  marriage  had  passed 
violent  quarrels  broke  out  between  the  pair,  as 
Elizabeth  learned  in  some  way  that  Montagu  had 
"  bought  her  of  her  maid  for  £500  per  annum," 
and  in  consequence  of  this  she  demanded  a  separa- 
tion. But  the  matter  was  patched  up  somehow, 
and  in  December  we  find  that  she  was  ill  through 
worry  —  her  husband  having  so  far  forgotten  himself 
as  to  start  a  brawl  in  the  King's  drawing-room, 
for  which  he  was  sent  to  the  Tower.  While  he  was 
standing  in  a  circle  round  the  King  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  came  in  hurriedly  and  pulled  Montagu 


192     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

by  the  shoulder  that  he  might  make  way,  whereupon 
arose  a  childish  dispute — "  I  will  pass  !  "  "  You  shall 
not  !  " — ^which  was  followed  by  a  challenge  from 
Montagu.  His  incarceration  did  not  last  long, 
and  he  was  released,  under  order  to  remain  confined 
in  his  own  house  until  the  King's  pleasure  should  be 
known. 

The  Countess  must  have  been  a  delicate  woman, 
as  in  1680  she  was  so  very  ill  that  every  one  thought 
she  would  die,  and  a  few  years  later  she  did  die, 
when  only  about  forty  years  old. 

The  dispute  about  her  daughter  became  acute, 
and  those  interested  had  to  appear  before  the  Lord 
Chancellor.  The  old  Countess  and  her  father. 
Lord  Suffolk,  and  Ralph  Montagu  argued  the  matter 
there,  and  the  mother  and  grandmother,  the  two 
Lady  Northumberlands,  then  met  at  Northumberland 
House,  and  argued  the  proposition  already  laid  down. 
The  Countess  offered  to  give  up  her  right  to  the 
possession  of  the  child  on  condition  that  she  might 
have  her  on  a  visit  for  ten  days  or  a  month  sometimes, 
and  she  was  determined  to  bind  her  mother-in-law 
not  to  contract  Elizabeth  in  marriage  without  her 
consent.  On  the  part  of  herself  and  Mr.  Montagu 
she  undertook  that  they  would  enter  into  the  same 
bonds,  and  would  not  arrange  any  marriage  without 
the  grandmother's  consent.  The  old  woman  refused 
all  compromise,  and  would  not  even  listen  with 
any  patience.  Lady  Russell  concludes  her  remarks 
upon  this  matter  with  :  "  I  hope  for  an  accommodation. 
My  sister  urges,  it  is  hard  her  child  [that  if  she  have 
no  other  children  must  be  her  heir]  should  be  disposed 
of  without  her  consent  ;    and  in  my  judgment  it  is 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  193 

hard."  How  the  details  of  this  matter  ended  it  is 
not  easy  to  say,  but  the  grandmother  kept  the 
child  and  married  her  as  many  times  as  she 
thought    fit. 

It  was  not  so  long  after  her  marriage,  two  or  three 
years,  that  the  Countess  of  Northumberland — for 
she  retained  her  title  until  her  husband  became  the 
Earl  of  Montagu  —  had  to  bear  with  her  husband's 
infidelity.  Her  rival  was  Barbara  Cleveland,  who  had 
at  last  left  the  Court  of  Charles,  and  on  settling 
in  Paris  was  much  offended  that  the  French  ladies 
did  not  regard  her  as  a  person  of  importance  ;  so 
as  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  live  without  gaiety — 
or  without  a  lover — she  consoled  herself  by  carrying 
on  an  intrigue  with  Ralph  Montagu,  who  had  again 
been  appointed  Ambassador  Extraordinary  to  Louis 
XIV.  Barbara  had  her  daughter,  the  Countess  of 
Sussex,  with  her,  a  girl  for  whom  her  father,  or 
supposed  father,  Charles,  had  much  affection,  and 
who  had  pleased  him  by  becoming  a  devoted  adorer 
of  Louise  de  Keroualle.  This  latter  fact  infuriated 
Barbara,  who  made  many  ineffectual  attempts  to 
part  the  girl  from  the  hated  rival.  At  last,  on  the 
plea  of  going  away,  she  seems  to  have  succeeded, 
and  for  better  security  she  placed  her  daughter  as 
inmate  of  a  convent.  While  Barbara  herself  was  absent 
from  Paris  on  a  visit,  Montagu,  it  is  said  on  Charles's 
instruction,  persuaded  Lady  Sussex  to  leave  the 
convent  and  take  up  her  abode  at  the  English  Em- 
bassy. 

The  Duchess  was  furious  on  her  return,  suspected, 
wrongly  or  rightly,  that  Montagu  had  transferred 
his  affections  from  herself  to  her  child,   and  set  to 


194    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

work  to  ruin  the  ambassador.  She  revealed  all  his 
poHtical  intrigues  to  Charles,  and  told  him  among 
many  other  things  that  Montagu  despised  both 
him  (Charles)  and  his  brother,  and  wished  with  all  his 
heart  that  Parliament  would  send  them  both  travelling, 
for  the  King,  he  said,  was  a  dull,  governable  fool, 
and  the  Duke  a  wilful  fool.  "  So  that  it  were  yet 
better  to  have  you  than  him,  but  that  you  always 
choose  a  greater  beast  than  yourself  to  govern  you." 
That,  of  course,  lost  Montagu  his  post  and  all  favour, 
and  he  found  himself  shunned  when  he  rushed  back 
to  England  to  save  himself. 

Lady  Montagu's  four  children,  like  herself,  seem 
not  to  have  been  strong,  and  they  are  only  noted  in 
correspondence  when  they  have  been  ill ;  thus  on 
one  occasion  we  find  Lady  Montagu  fearing  small- 
pox for  her  son,  and  on  another  Lady  Russell  writes : 
"  I  hear  by  my  sister  Montagu  she  found  a  sickly 
family  in  Paris  :  her  daughter  in  a  languishing  con- 
dition, worn  to  nothing  almost  by  a  fever,  which  has 
hung  about  her  for  the  last  six  months." 

Lady  Montagu — her  husband  had  succeeded  his 
father  as  Lord  Montagu  in  1683 — must  have  felt  con- 
siderable pain  and  trouble  over  the  affairs  of  her 
eldest  daughter,  for  the  grandmother  was  true  to  her 
determination  to  dispose  of  the  child's  hand  as  the 
fancy  took  her.  Lady  Cleveland  had  schemed  vigor- 
ously in  1675-6  to  obtain  the  little  Elizabeth  as 
bride  to  her  eldest  boy,  the  Duke  of  Southampton, 
though  four  or  five  years  earlier  he  had  been  married 
to  Mary,  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Wood.  But  the 
Duchess,  with  her  airy  ideas  of  morality,  was  confident 
that   she   could   override   all   legal   obstructions,   and 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  195 

that  may  have  been  so,  but  she  had  the  redoubtable 
old  Countess  with  whom  to  deal,  who  both  outwitted 
and  defeated  her.  It  is  stated  by  one  authority  that 
Charles  II  in  1679  demanded  the  hand  of  Elizabeth 
Percy  for  his  natural  son  by  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth, but  there  is  no  corroboration  of  this,  and  as  the 
girl  was  then  thirteen  and  the  little  Duke  of  Richmond 
only  six,  it  seems  scarcely  possible  that  such  an  arrange- 
ment should  have  been  suggested.  This  Royal  honour 
is  also  said  to  have  been  refused. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  whether,  in  regulating  this 
child's  life,  the  old  Countess  was  actuated  by  spite 
against  her  daughter-in-law,  by  a  grim  determination 
to  rule,  or  whether  match-making  was  an  irresistible 
occupation  to  her.  It  was  not  ambition  which  moved 
her,  for  the  men  she  chose  as  lit  mates  for  her  grand- 
daughter were  in  no  way  superior  in  birth  to  the 
little  girl,  one  was  not  even  her  equal ;  and  it  could 
not  have  been  a  desire  for  wealth,  for  Elizabeth 
was  too  rich  herself  to  need  more  money.  Whatever 
the  reason,  a  few  weeks  after  Charles's  offer  is  said 
to  have  been  refused,  the  child  was  married  to  "  the 
ugliest  and  saddest  creature,"  Henry  Cavendish,  the 
Earl  of  Ogle,  a  sickly  boy  of  fifteen,  heir  to  the  Duke 
of  Newcastle.  It  was  arranged  that  this  undesirable 
young  husband  should  take  the  name  of  Percy  and 
travel  for  two  years  before  settling  down  with  his 
wife,  who  would  then  be  fifteen.  Fortunately  for 
every  one,  except,  perhaps,  himself,  he  died  when 
half-way  through  his  continental  travels,  thus  giving 
to  the  old  Countess  the  joyful  occupation  of  finding 
another  grandson-in-law. 

This  time  she  chose  some  one  very  different,  but 


196    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

even  more  objectionable,  a  certain  Thomas  Thynne, 
known  to  his  contemporaries  and  in  history  as  Tom 
of  Ten  Thousand  because  of  his  wealth,  a  man 
who  was  so  stupid  that  he  was  thus  lampooned  by 
Rochester  : 

"  Who'd  be  a  wit  in  Dryden's  cudgelled  skin, 
Or  who'd  be  rich  and  senseless  like  Tom  Thynne  ?  " 

In  negotiating  this  marriage  the  old  Countess 
and  those  who  helped  her,  for  there  is  more  than  a  hint 
of  accomplices,  did  a  shameful  thing.  She  could  only 
bring  the  marriage  about  by  lying  on  every  point 
to  the  child  who,  being  still  in  mourning,  was  not 
allowed  to  receive  suitors  personally.  As  soon  as  the 
date  of  her  mourning  expired  she  was  married  with  the 
following  results,  told  by  Sir  Charles  Lyttelton  : 

"  My  Lady  Ogle  went  up  yesterday  with  her 
grandmother  to  the  old  Change,  and  there  slipt 
from  her,  and  'tis  not  yet  known  who  is  gone  with 
her,  nor  whither  she  is  gone.  But,  last  night,  Dick 
Bret  came  to  the  King  and  told  him  he  had  waited 
on  him  before  to  acquaint  His  Majesty  that  she  was 
not  married  to  Mr.  Thynne,  but  now  he  was  come 
to  tell  him  she  is  married  to  him.  The  King  says 
she  has  been  unworthily  and  basely  betrayed  by 
her  friends."  Others  to  whom  Elizabeth  dared 
speak  in  confidence  record  that  the  girl  had  railed 
at  those  who  induced  her  to  marry,  for  they 
made  her  believe  Tom  Thynne  had  ^20,000  a 
year,  that  he  was  of  high  family  and  was  but 
twenty-three  years  old.  After  the  ceremony  she 
refused  to  live  with  him,  and  vowed  she  never 
would   either  meet   him    or  allow   him   to  see  her. 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  197 

It  was  also  said  that  Thynne  had  practically  bought 
her  by  giving  bonds  for  vast  sums  of  money  to  her 
relatives.  In  addition  to  all  this,  this  "  well-battered 
rake,"  as  Mr.  Thomas  Seccombe  calls  him,  was  mar- 
ried or  contracted  in  marriage  to  a  daughter  of  Lady 
Trevor. 

The  little  Elizabeth  took  refuge  with  Lady  Temple 
at  the  Hague,  and  her  distressed  mother  had  sufficient 
influence  to  secure  a  year's  respite  for  her  daughter 
from  the  mercenary  husband  and  grandmother,  during 
which  the  married  pair  were  not  to  meet. 

All  this  pother  was  caused  by  the  child's  wealth, 
for  she  was  a  very  great  heiress,  holding  in  her  own 
right  six  of  the  oldest  baronies  of  England,  those 
of  Percy,  Lucy,  Poynings,  Fitz-Payne,  Bryan,  and 
Latimer.  As  Thynne  could  not  have  his  bride  he 
claimed  her  property,  and  the  proctors  decided  in  his 
favour,  while  a  definite  promise  was  exacted  that 
his  wife  in  name  would  return  at  the  end  of  a  year 
to  be  his  wife  in  reality. 

An  unsuccessful  suitor  for  this  girl's  hand  was 
Count  John  Philip  Konigsmarck,  who  sent  from 
France  two  challenges  to  Thynne  by  Captain  Vratz, 
one  of  his  followers.  Thynne's  answer  was  to  send 
six  men  over  the  Channel  to  murder  both  Konigs- 
marck and  his  men.  As  this  failed,  Vratz  unsuccessfully 
tried  to  bring  about  a  duel  between  Thynne  and 
himself ;  but  the  affair  was  actually  ended  by  murder. 
Vratz  with  two  accomplices  shot  Thynne  when 
driving  down  Fleet  Street  in  his  coach.  Konigsmarck 
hid,  and  when  found  was  adjudged  as  not  guilty, 
while  his  three  tools  were  hanged.  In  the  southern 
aisle  of  Westminster  Abbey  may  still  be  seen  a  monu- 


198     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

ment  to  Tom  Thynne,  who  was  certainly  "  no  better 
than  he  should  be,"  with  a  representation  of  the 
murder  chiselled  on  the  front.  The  legend  upon  the 
tomb  was  so  absurdly  laudatory,  giving  him  such 
a  virtuous  character  (Thynne  himself  must  have 
laughed  could  he  have  read  it),  that  it  was  subsequently 
removed.  There  were  many  rumours  about  Thynne's 
death,  one  being,  not  unnaturally,  that  Lady  Ogle  had 
promoted  quarrels  between  the  two  men  on  purpose 
to  rid  herself  of  her  husband.  Swift  brought  up  this 
scandal  in  some  lampoon  years  later,  when  Lady 
Ogle  had  become  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  and  in 
angry  revenge  she  is  said  to  have  gone  on  her  knees 
to  Queen  Anne,  praying  her  not  to  confer  a  certain 
bishopric,  which  he  coveted,  upon  the  Dean. 

While  these  marriages  were  arranged  and  disarranged 
the  girl  was  resentful  concerning  her  mother.  She  had 
evidently  been  so  well  tutored  by  her  grandmother 
as  to  accept  her  opinions  in  opposition  to  those  of 
her  own  parent.  We  find  the  Dowager  asserting 
that  if  her  grand-daughter  preferred  the  addresses  of 
my  Lord  Ogle  to  any  others  she  should  accept  them, 
and  we  also  find  Lady  Russell  writing  to  her  little 
niece  just  after  her  first  marriage,  praying  that  she 
may  have  good  fortune  and  know  happiness  to  a  good 
old  age,  but  adding  that  she  could  not  believe  she 
would  have  complete  happiness  while  being  estranged 
from  her  mother,  and  offering  all  help  in  her  power 
towards  a  reconciliation.  "  No  applications  can  now 
be  too  earnest  to  obtain  her  pardon,  nor  could  have 
been  to  have  prevented  the  misfortune  of  her  dis- 
pleasure, whose  tender  kindness  you  cannot  but  be 
aware  of." 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  199 

A  few  months  after  Thynne's  death  Lady  Ogle, 
who  had  asserted  that  she  absolutely  refused  again 
to  consider  marriage  unless  she  herself  approved  of 
the  match,  was  pleased  to  regard  the  Duke  of  Somer- 
set as  a  suitor,  and  after  falling  ill  of  the  measles 
and  recovering,  she  married  him  in  1682.  In  later 
life  this  man  was  known  as  "  the  proud  Duke." 
He  never  allowed  his  children  to  sit  down  in  his 
presence,  and  had  the  roads  cleared  by  outriders 
when  he  travelled.  "  Get  out  of  the  way,"  said  one 
of  his  outriders  to  a  countryman,  "  my  lord  Duke 
is  coming,  and  does  not  choose  to  be  looked  upon." 
The  man  snatched  up  his  pig  in  a  rage,  and  holding 
it  up  at  the  carriage  window,  shouted,  "  But  I  shall 
see  him,  'and  my  pig  shall  see  him  too !  "  When  the 
Duke  had  married  a  second  time,  and  his  young 
wife  tapped  him  with  her  fan,  he  remarked  sternly  : 
"  Madam,  my  first  wife  was  a  Percy,  and  she  never 
took  such  a  liberty."  There  is  another  story  told  to 
the  effect  that  he  insisted  that  his  two  daughters 
should  take  turns  in  standing  in  the  room  while  he 
had  his  afternoon  doze  in  his  arm-chair.  One  day 
when  it  was  Lady  Charlotte's  turn  she  was  so  tired 
that  she  sat  down,  and  her  loving  father  incon- 
veniently woke  up.  He  fixed  her  with  his  stern, 
parental  eye,  and  told  her  in  dreadful  voice  that 
he  would  find  means  to  make  her  regret  her  want  of 
decorum.  When  he  died  it  was  found  that  he  had 
left  her  in  his  will,  by  way  of  punishment,  ^20,000 
less  than  her  sister  received. 

But  this  is  going  far  from  Lady  Montagu,  whose 
life  was  drawing  to  its  close.  During  the  trial  of 
Lord  Russell  she  was  in  Paris  with  her  two  weakly 


200    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

children  ;  and  later,  when  the  whole  terrible  affair 
was  discussed  in  the  first  Parliament  of  William  III, 
and  the  execution  was  then  denounced  as  a  "  murder," 
we  find  her  writing  with  loving  sympathy  to  the 
sister  who  was  thus  forced  to  live  over  again  the  agony 
of  her  bereavement.  Her  husband,  like  her  father, 
built  a  great  house  in  Bloomsbury,  Montagu  House, 
which  became  in  course  of  time  the  British  Museum, 
and  later  was  rebuilt.  Evelyn  speaks  of  it  as  a  stately 
and  ample  palace,  and  especially  praises  Verrio's 
fresco  paintings — "  the  funeral  pile  of  Dido  on  the 
staircase,  the  labours  of  Hercules,  a  fight  with  the 
Centaurs,  his  effeminacy  with  Dejanira  and  Apo- 
theosis or  reception  among  the  Gods,  on  the  walls 
and  roofs  of  the  great  room  above."  The  riot  of 
form  and  colour,  so  beloved  by  those  of  Stuart  times, 
can  be  well  imagined  by  those  who  study  the  ceilings 
of  the  stairway,  on  their  way  to  see  the  Beauties 
of  Hampton  Court.  When  Elizabeth  died  in  1690 
Lady  Russell  was  much  troubled,  for  she  loved  her 
tenderly.  She  wrote  :  "  There  is  something  in  the 
younger  going  before  me,  that  I  have  observed  all 
my  life  to  give  a  sense  I  can't  describe  ;  it  is  harder 
to  be  borne  than  a  bigger  loss,  where  there  has  been 
spun  out  a  longer  thread  of  life.  After  above  forty 
years'  acquaintance  with  so  amiable  a  creature,  one 
must  needs,  in  reflecting,  bring  to  remembrance 
so  many  engaging  endearments  as  are  yet  at  present 
embittering  and  painful." 

Ralph  Montagu  became  notorious  by  his  second 
marriage,  which  he  made  two  years  after  the  death  of 
his  wife.    He  chose  the  lady  for  her  money,  and  cared 


ELIZABETH   WRIOTHESLEY  201 

nothing  for  the  fact  that  her  pride  and  wealth  had 
turned  her  brain.  She  was  EHzabeth — how  this  name 
recurs ! — eldest  daughter  of  Henry  Cavendish,  the 
second  Duke  of  Newcastle,  and  was  the  widow  of  the 
Duke  of  Albemarle.  She  declared  that  she  would 
only  marry  a  monarch,  so  Montagu,  working  upon 
this  craze,  was  introduced  to  her  as  the  Emperor  of 
China,  and  married  her,  always  humouring  her,  one 
historian  says,  in  her  delusion  that  she  was  by  her 
marriage  an  Empress.  However,  he  kept  her  in  such 
seclusion,  confined  on  the  ground  floor  of  Montagu 
House,  that  it  was  rumoured  that  she  was  dead  and 
that  her  death  was  not  made  public  as  her  husband 
wished  to  retain  the  ;£7000  a  year  which  would  go  to 
some  one  else  at  her  demise.  She,  however,  outlived 
him,  being  served  on  her  knees  to  the  day  of  her 
death,  which  occurred  in  1734,  when  she  was  ninety- 
six. 

Lord  Ross,  who  was  also  anxious  to  secure  this  lady 
for  a  wife,  wrote  the  following  verses  upon  them 
both  : 

"  Insulting  rival,  never  boast 
Thy  conquest  lately  won  ; 
No  wonder  if  her  heart  was  lost  : 
Her  senses  first  were  gone. 

"  From  one  that's  under  Bedlam's  laws 
What  glory  can  be  had  ? 
For  love  of  thee  was  not  the  cause  ; 
It  proves  that  she  was  mad." 

Of  the  three  sons  born  to  Montagu  and  the 
Countess  of  Northumberland  only  one,  John,  survived, 
and  succeeded  to  the  dukedom.  He  showed  all  his 
life   a   singularly   bright   and   gay   disposition,   being 


202    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

without  the  moral  obUquity  from  which  his  father 
suffered.  Ralph  Montagu  was,  however,  possessed 
of  good  and  generous  qualities  to  balance  those 
that  were  less  amiable  ;  indeed,  he  was  the  sort  of 
man  who  made  warm  friends  and  bitter  enemies. 


CHAPTER   XII 
HENRIETTA   BOYLE,   COUNTESS    OF   ROCHESTER 

"  Virtue,  like  happy  nations,  has  no  history." 

This  picture,  labelled  Lady  Rochester,  was  for  a  long 
time  regarded  as  the  portrait  of  Elizabeth  Mallet,  the 
girl  whom  Wilmot,  Lord  Rochester,  dragged  out  of 
her  coach  when  she  was  returning  from  taking  supper 
with  Frances  Stuart,  with  the  intention  of  eloping  with 
her,  and  who,  indeed,  soon  after  married  that  dissolute 
Earl.  It  has  since  been  proved,  however,  to  be  the 
picture  of  Flenrietta — or  Marietta — Boyle,  the  daugh- 
ter of  Richard  Boyle,  Earl  of  Burlington  and  Earl  of 
Cork,  and  wife  of  Lawrence  Hyde,  the  second  son  of 
the  great  Clarendon.  Lawrence  was  given  the  title 
of  Earl  of  Rochester  in  1682,  after  the  death  of 
Wilmot,  and  while  he  was  at  the  height  of  his  power 
under  Charles  II,  being  known  then  as  "  the  great 
favourite."  It  is  true  that  Lely  died  in  1680,  but 
though  the  portrait  must  have  been  painted  earlier, 
the  legend  upon  it  would  naturally  be  changed  when 
the  original  was  raised  to  greater  rank.  It  was  in  1665 
that  Lawrence  Hyde  married  Henrietta,  receiving 
with  her  a  dowry  of  _£i 0,000. 

It  would  be  a  relief — were  it  not  attended  with 
great  difficulty — at  last  to  find  a  subject  against  whom 
the  chroniclers  of  the  day  have  spoken  no  ill ;  yet 
having  nothing  notorious  to  tell  about  Lady  Rochester, 

203 


204    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

they  are  content  with  telHng  nothing  at  all,  for  the 
life  of  the  thoughtful  wife  and  mother  does  not  afford 
sensational  matter  for  a  biography.  With  such  a  man 
as  Lawrence  Hyde,  however,  she  could  scarcely  have 
been  a  thoroughly  happy  wife  ;  he  was  totally  want- 
ing in  that  quality  which  belongs  to  the  person  who 
is  master  of  his  soul,  and  comes  but  seldom  to  the 
man  who  has  been  thrust  into  a  position  of  power 
by  circumstance  rather  than  by  achievement  —  the 
quality  of  self-control.  His  attainments  were  strength- 
ened and  improved  by  his  diplomatic  experience,  but 
he  had  never  learned  the  art  of  governing  or  con- 
cealing his  emotions.  In  prosperity  he  was  boastful 
and  insolent ;  in  adversity  he  was  mortified  and  de- 
spairing, easily  moved  to  anger,  and  in  anger  saying 
bitter,  unforgivable  things  which  he  soon  forgot,  but 
which  the  hearers  would  sometimes  remember  as  long 
as  they  lived.  He  was  self-sufficient  and  impatient ; 
had  the  necessary  quality  for  a  good  orator,  but  could 
never  successfully  take  part  in  a  debate,  as  it  was  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world  for  his  opponents  to  make 
him  angry,  and  then  he  lost  his  head  and  was  entirely 
at  their  mercy.  Scarcely,  it  may  be  imagined,  a 
pleasant  man  with  whom  to  live,  and  it  is  probable 
that  his  wife  suffered  too  much  from  his  temper  not 
to  efface  herself  willingly.  Yet  he  seems  to  have  had 
a  great  affection  for  her. 

There  is  evidence  in  family  letters  that  she  was  not 
strong.  Lord  Clarendon  writes  to  his  brother  on  one 
occasion  :  "  God  Almighty  preserve  you  and  my 
sister  and  all  yours.  I  am  very  much  afraid  lest  this 
change  should  make  impression  on  my  sister's  tender 
health  ;    but  she  has  seen  such  variety  of  changes  in 


HeNKIKI  lA    BOVI.E,    CorMESS   OF    ROCHESIEK 

iAfta-  Le/y-) 


[to   FACK   I'AGE  204 


HENRIETTA    BOYLE  205 

our  poor  family,  that  I  doubt  not  her  wisdom  and 
resolution  if  her  strength  do  not  fail  her." 

In  spite  of  her  bad  health,  Lady  Rochester  always 
took  an  interest  in  the  Court  and  in  current  events, 
and  did  her  best  to  uphold  her  husband  in  his  posi- 
tion and  his  ambitions.  Her  daughter  Henrietta  was 
maid  of  honour  to  the  Queen,  and  Lady  Rochester  was 
always  kind  to  the  young  girls  she  saw  growing  up 
around  her  and  would  do  anything  she  could  to  assure 
their  happiness.  One  of  her  favourites  was  Alary 
Evelyn,  the  diarist's  well-beloved  daughter,  and  Lady 
Rochester  intended  suggesting  her  as  maid  of  honour 
to  Catherine  as  soon  as  a  vacancy  occurred.  But 
Charles  died,  and  a  month  later  the  girl  also  died  of 
smallpox,  leaving  her  father  very  disconsolate. 

Lady  Rochester,  however,  was  not  always  ill,  she 
carried  out  her  social  duties  with  the  pleasant  affability 
of  a  kindly  woman,  for  there  are  notes  of  dinner- 
parties given  by  her  which  by  no  means  suggest  that 
she  suffered  from  permanent  bad  health. 

As  for  her  family,  she  bore  two  sons  and  four  daugh- 
ters ;  the  eldest,  Lady  Anne  Hyde,  was  said  to  have 
been  very  beautiful.  Poor  child  !  long  before  she  was 
grown  to  maturity,  at  an  age  when  our  own  daughters 
are  still  wearing  short  frocks  and  pigtails  and  carrying 
school  satchels,  she  was  married — being  not  fifteen — 
to  a  boy  of  nineteen,  the  Earl  of  Ossory,  grandson 
to  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  Less  than  three  years  later 
she  died,  of  a  second  and  premature  confinement. 
"  To  die  young  and  beloved  is  not  a  misfortune  ;  it 
is  to  die  half  an  angel,"  is  the  fatuous  conclusion  of 
Mrs.  Jameson  upon  her  death.  Most  girls  would,  it 
may  be  believed,  prefer  to  be  allowed  to  grow  up 


2o6    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

sensibly  and  then  take  their  part  in  Hfe  than  to  be 
made  "  half  an  angel  "  in  such  circumstances.  She 
seems  to  have  been  a  vivacious,  gentle  girl,  yet  of  a 
superstitious  tendency,  and  it  is  possible  that  her 
imaginative  temperament  contributed  somewhat  to 
the  fatal  result  of  her  illness. 

She  was  living  with  her  father-in-law  in  Dublin 
Castle,  and  a  short  time  before  her  death  Dr.  John 
Hough,  later  Bishop  of  Worcester,  was  going  to  sit 
down  at  dinner  with  the  family,  when  he  noticed 
that  there  were  already  twelve  people  at  the  table. 
With  his  hand  on  his  chair  he  hesitated,  looked  round, 
and  refused  to  make  one  of  the  party,  upon  which 
Anne,  guessing  his  reason,  said,  "  Sit  down.  Doctor,  it 
is  now  too  late  ;  it  will  make  no  difference  whether 
you  sit  or  go  away."  So  pressed  by  all  the  company 
he  made  the  thirteenth  at  dinner.  He  afterwards 
said  that  he  believed  that  the  incident  affected  her, 
as  she  was  at  the  time  in  bad  health,  subject  to  fainting 
fits  and  hysteria.  Dr.  Hough  also  tells  another  story 
of  her  sensitiveness  at  this  period,  which  shows  that 
death  was  certainly  in  her  thoughts — which  is  scarcely 
wonderful,  seeing  that  she  was  only  seventeen,  and 
called  upon  to  endure  for  a  second  time  all  the  agony 
of  maternity,  and  that  at  a  time  when  all  knowledge 
was  wanting  as  to  how  to  alleviate  such  suffering. 
She  dreamed  that  some  one  came  and  knocked  upon 
her  chamber  door  ;  which  made  her  call  to  her  servant 
to  see  who  was  there  ;  the  servant  not  answering,  she 
opened  the  door  herself,  and  on  the  threshold  saw  a 
lady  muffled  up  in  a  hood.  Drawing  the  hood  aside, 
the  visitor  showed  herself  to  be  Lady  Kildare,  who 
had    died    recently.      Then    Lady   Anne   cried    out. 


HENRIETTA    BOYLE  207 

"  Sister,  is  it  you  ?  Why  do  you  come  in  this  manner  ?" 
Upon  which  Lady  Kildare  answered,  "  Don't  be 
frightened,  for  I  am  come  on  a  very  serious  affair  ; 
and  it  is  to  tell  you  that  you  will  die  very  soon." 
If  she  believed  in  omens  this  dream  must  have  seri- 
ously affected  her.  She  died  on  January  25th,  1685  ; 
but  her  mother  knew  nothing  of  it  for  a  week.  Her 
despairing  husband,  Lord  Ossory,  remarried  in  a  few 
months ! 

A  year  later  Lord  Rochester  wrote  some  "  Medita- 
tions "  on  the  anniversary  of  his  daughter's  death, 
part  of  which  runs  :  "  I  think  I  had  wrote  from 
hence  to  her  after  the  time  she  was  dead,  with  the 
hopes  that  my  letter  would  find  her  better  ;  with 
expressions  of  tenderness  for  the  sickness  she  had 
endured  ;  of  wishes  for  her  recovery  ;  of  hopes  of 
being  in  a  short  time  happy  in  her  company  ;  of  joy 
and  comfort  to  myself,  in  being  designed  to  go  to 
live  again  in  the  same  place  with  her — I  say,  I  had 
written  all  this — to  whom  ?  to  my  poor  dead  child  ! 
...  In  the  midst  of  this  I  had  my  wife  lying  weak 
and  worn  with  long  and  continual  sickness,  and  now, 
as  it  were,  knocked  quite  on  the  head  with  this  cruel 
blow  ; — a  wife  for  whom  I  had  all  the  tenderness 
imaginable,  with  whom  I  had  lived  long  and  happily, 
and  had  reason  to  be  well  pleased  ;  whose  fainting 
heart  and  weak  spirits  I  was  to  comfort  and  to  keep 
up  when  I  had  none  myself."  To  this  he  added  that  he 
was  resolved  to  retire  into  privacy  and  contemplation. 

As  this  last  sentence  was  written  it  gave  the  appear- 
ance that  his  intended  retirement  was  the  result  of 
his  grief  and  his  wife's  condition.  A  slightly  cynical 
biographer   points   out,   that   he   does   not   add   that 


2o8    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

February  2nd  of  that  year  had  been  fixed  by  the  King 
for  an  investigation,  suggested  by  his  enemy  HaHfax, 
of  the  Treasury  books  under  his  control,  and  that  the 
rumour  was  abroad  that  he  "  would  be  turned  out 
of  all  and  sent  to  the  Tower."  However,  as  Charles  was 
taken  ill  on  the  first  and  died  on  the  sixth  of  February, 
Rochester's  broken  heart  was  mended  and  his  high 
resolve  was  broken  in  its  stead — for  ten  days  later  he 
was  made  Lord  Treasurer. 

King  James  hoped  to  make  him  become  a  papist, 
and  after  some  discussion  with  him  appointed  a  day 
for  a  conference.  One  story  goes  that  Rochester  had 
received  notice  that  he  would  be  asked  to  resign  his 
post  as  Treasurer,  and  he  assumed  that  the  cause  of 
this  was  his  religion.  The  Countess  of  Rochester  was 
very  ill  at  the  time,  having  after  a  long  interval  given 
birth  to  a  daughter,  and  wrote  to  the  Queen,  begging 
she  would  honour  her  so  far  as  to  come  and  see  her, 
as  she  wished  to  discourse  upon  an  important  matter. 
Mary  of  Modena  went  and  stayed  two  hours,  listening 
to  the  Countess's  version  of  what  enemies  were  plotting 
against  them  and  of  the  evil  that  was  threatening. 
During  the  conversation  the  Queen  said  that  all  the 
Protestants  in  the  kingdom  were  turning  against  them, 
there  were  none  whom  they  could  trust,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  put  reliable  people  into  high  position. 
Upon  this  Anne  answered,  that  her  lord  was  not  so 
wedded  to  his  opinion  as  not  to  be  ready  to  be  better 
instructed.  This  incident  was  by  some  said  to  give  rise 
to  the  conference,  and  Burnet  adds  that  a  conference 
on  this  subject  was  not  proposed  until  it  was  well 
assured  that  the  person  for  whom  it  was  appointed 
had  decided  to  join  the  King's  religion. 


HENRIETTA    BOYLE  209 

Rochester  denied  that  he  had  any  such  intention, 
lamenting  that  his  wife  had  spoken  without  his  per- 
mission. As  he  also  received  private  information  that 
no  matter  what  he  decided  he  could  not  retain  his 
post,  he  went  to  the  conference  in  no  conciliatory- 
mood.  When  it  was  his  turn  to  speak  he  spoke  "  with 
much  heat  and  spirit,  and  not  without  some  scorn, 
becoming  more  and  more  vehement  ;  so  that  the 
King  in  anger  broke  up  the  conference." 

In  compensation  for  the  loss  of  his  white  staff  which 
followed,  Rochester  received  ^4000  a  year  and  several 
grants.  His  wife's  illness  terminated  fatally,  she  dying 
in  her  forty-second  year  at  Bath,  on  April  12th,  1687, 
being  survived  twenty-five  years  by  her  husband. 


CHAPTER   XIII 
ANNE   DIGBY,    COUNTESS    OF    SUNDERLAND 

"A  Proteus,  ever  acting  in  disguise  ; 
A  finished  statesman,  intricately  wise  ; 
A  second  Machiavel,  who  soar'd  above 
The  little  ties  of  gratitude  and  love." 

Contemporary  Lampoon. 

Lord  Bristol  had  a  daughter  named  Anne,  who, 
judging  from  most  sources,  inherited  something  of 
her  father's  love  of  intrigue,  while  being  probably 
of  stronger  intellect  than  he  was.  As  a  girl  we  are 
told  that  she  was  pretty,  delicate-looking,  and  exceed- 
ingly fair  ;  and  she  was  just  at  the  age  to  enjoy  gaiety 
when  her  father  was  replaced  in  Royal  favour  after 
the  Restoration.  As  long  as  he  lived  Evelyn  was  her 
warm  friend  and  admirer,  which  goes  far  to  prove, 
not  only  her  ability,  but  her  amiability ;  but  she  was 
a  "  born  intrigante,"  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  she 
and  her  husband  worked  hand-in-hand,  sometimes 
too  short-sighted  to  see  the  full  result  of  their  actions 
and  then  eagerly  catching  at  the  most  likely  means  of 
saving  themselves  from  disaster,  in  which  endeavour 
they  failed  on  rare  occasions.  Anne  found  a  warm 
apologist  in  Mrs.  Jameson,  who,  however,  was  so 
partial  in  her  opinions  as  to  be  unreliable.  She  drew 
the  wary  lady  as  something  of  a  saint  painfully  thread- 
ing the  thorny  paths  of  a  very  wicked  world,  and  she 


Annk  I)k;]'.v.  Countkss  of  Sundeki.and 
^Ajlcr  l.e!y) 


[to    face    I'AGE   I'lO 


ANNE    DIGBY  211 

kept  a  discreet  silence  upon  such  evidence  of  levity 
as  is  furnished  by  Pepys,  or  Barillon,  or  even  Anne's 
own  letters  to  her  husband's  uncle,  the  handsome 
Henry  Sidney,  Earl  of  Romney,  who  once  created 
such  a  furore  in  the  household  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  York.  However,  the  historian's  task  is  to 
put  down  what  is  written,  and  to  piece  together  the 
fragmentary  evidences  which  remain  of  a  life,  without 
blaming  or  praising. 

We  first  hear  of  the  girl  as  a  charming  addition  to 
the  early  Court  of  Charles  H,  and  then  as  being  wooed 
by  Robert  Spencer,  the  second  Earl  of  Sunderland, 
son  of  Dorothy,  Lady  Sunderland,  Waller's  Sacharissa. 
This  was  probably  a  match  which  well  suited  the 
ambition  of  the  Earl  of  Bristol,  who  was  seeking  on 
every  side  to  consolidate  his  position  ;  whether — in 
spite  of  the  fortune  it  would  eventually  bring — it 
equally  well  pleased  the  bridegroom's  family  there  is 
reason  to  doubt,  and  there  came  a  time  when  it 
seems  not  to  have  pleased  the  bridegroom  himself, 
but  the  actual  reason  for  this  has  been  lost.  The 
date  of  the  wedding  was  fixed  for  July,  1663,  and  on 
the  first  day  of  the  month  Pepys  tells  us  that  though 
the  wedding  clothes  were  made,  the  portion  agreed 
on,  and  everything  ready,  the  Earl  of  Sunderland 
had  gone  away,  no  one  knew  where.  But  he  sent 
Anne  a  letter  releasing  her  from  her  engagement 
with  him,  and  giving  no  reason  for  his  action.  He 
also  advised  his  friends  not  to  inquire  into  the  matter  ; 
they  might  think  and  say  what  they  liked,  if  only 
they  would  not  ask  him  anything.  He  had  had  enough 
of  it  and  was  as  definitely  resolved  not  to  marry 
Anne  as  he  was  resolved  not  to  explain  why. 


212     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Of  course  one  must  remember  that  Pepys  is  only 
repeating  gossip,  which  may  have  been  exaggerated, 
but  the  French  ambassador  at  Whitehall,  the  Comte 
de  Comminges,  wrote  to  the  Marquis  de  Lionne, 
who  was  the  Secretary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs 
in  Paris,  that  the  evening  before  the  day  fixed  for 
the  marriage  Lord  Sunderland  went  away  and  gave 
orders  to  one  of  his  friends  to  break  off  the  match, 
a  proceeding  which  greatly  surprised  every  one  at 
Court  and  which  disgusted  the  King,  who  blamed 
the  Earl  in  the  highest  degree. 

Whether  the  fault  was  in  Anne — the  writer  in  the 
Dictionary  of  Natiofial  Biography  suggests  that  "  if 
the  young  earl's  fears  were  due  to  a  suspicion  that 
he  had  met  his  match  in  duplicity,  they  were  probably 
not  unfounded  " — or  in  her  lover,  or  whether  the 
latter  was  tired  of  hearing  about  Lord  Bristol,  it  is 
impossible  to  say.  The  Earl  of  Bristol  was  in  dis- 
grace just  then,  having  reported  that  Sir  Richard 
Temple  had  said  treasonable  things  in  conversation  ; 
for  this  he  was  summoned  to  the  Bar  of  the  House  of 
Commons  to  prove  or  defend  his  words.  There  he 
seemed  to  think  that  the  best  defence  lay  in  a  flippant 
jocularity,  making  "  a  comedian-like  speech,  de- 
livered with  such  action  as  did  not  become  his  lord- 
ship, confessing  that  he  did  tell  the  King  such  a 
thing  of  Sir  Richard  Temple,  but  that  the  words  he 
repeated  had  not  been  spoken  by  him,  he  himself 
having  enlarged  upon  what  was  said."  This  defence 
was  made  after  the  flight  of  Lord  Sunderland,  who, 
however,  one  writer  suggests,  may  have  been  tired 
out  with  the  notoriety  of  his  prospective  father-in- 
law. 


ANNE    DIGBY  213 

Whatever  the  cause,  and  whatever  the  means  taken 
to  set  matters  right,  the  marriage  was  definitely  put 
off,  and  for  a  considerable  time  the  lovers  did  not 
meet.  Then  either  inclination  reasserted  itself  or 
counsel  prevailed,  for  the  estranged  pair  were  recon- 
ciled and  married  on  June  loth,  1665,  at  St.  Vedast's, 
in  the  city  of  London,  nearly  two  years  after  it  was 
first  intended. 

In  studying  Anne  Digby's  life  it  is  difficult  not  to 
accept  Princess  Anne's  estimate  of  her,  written  in  a 
letter  to  her  sister  in  the  spring  of  1688 — a  letter 
which  Mrs.  Jameson  says  contained  "  the  most  vulgar 
and  virulent  abuse." 

After  discussing  Lord  Sunderland  the  Princess 
adds :  "  His  lady  too  is  as  extraordinary  in  her  kind  ; 
for  she  is  a  flattering,  dissembling,  false  woman ; 
but  she  has  so  fawning  and  endearing  a  way,  that 
she  will  deceive  anybody  at  first,  and  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  find  out  all  her  ways  in  a  little  time.  Then 
she  has  had  her  gallants,  though  may  be  not  so  many 
as  some  ladies  here,  and  with  all  these  good  qualities 
she  is  a  constant  church  woman  ;  so  that  to  out- 
ward appearance,  one  would  take  her  for  a  saint, 
and,  to  hear  her  talk,  you  would  think  she  is  a  very 
good  Protestant,  but  she  is  as  much  the  one  as  the 
other,  for  it  is  certain  that  her  lord  does  nothing 
without  her."  A  week  later  the  outspoken  Princess 
also  wrote :  "  She  runs  from  church  to  church  after 
the  famousest  preachers,  and  keeps  such  a  clatter 
with  her  devotions  that  it  really  turns  one's  stomach. 
Sure  there  never  was  a  couple  so  well  matched  as 
she  and  her  husband  ;  for  as  she  is  throughout  in 
all  her  actions  the  greatest  jade  that  ever  was,  so  is 


214    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

he  the  subtlest  workingest  villain  that  is  on  the  face 
of  the  earth." 

This  desire  to  be  all  things  to  all  men  must  have 
been  inherent  in  Lady  Sunderland's  nature,  for  in 
1667,  and  also  in  1688,  we  find  John  Evelyn  writing 
letters  to  her  upon  such  subjects  as  books  of  devotion, 
and  her  courage  and  Christian  fortitude.  "  I  look 
upon  it  as  a  peculiar  grace  and  favour  of  God  to 
Your  Ladyship  that,  amidst  so  many  temptations, 
and  grandeur  of  courts,  the  attendants,  visits,  diver- 
sions, you  are  resolved  that  nothing  of  all  this  shall 
interrupt  your  duty  to  God,  and  the  religion  you 
profess,  whenever  it  comes  into  competition  with 
the  things  of  this  world." 

Evelyn  saw  the  Countess  often,  yet  as  he  did  not 
altogether  live  in  her  circle,  he  probably  did  not 
know  of  many  things  that  happened  there.  That 
he  was  sincere  in  his  belief  in  her  personal  religion 
and  devotion  there  can  be  no  doubt,  and  it  is  quite 
possible  that  the  lady  did  not  find  devotion  incom- 
patible with  intrigue,  both  political  and  amorous. 

Sunderland  took  a  shady  by-way  into  Royal  favour 
by  making  great  friends  with  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land, and  when  her  influence  waned  he  transferred 
his  attentions  to  Louise  Renee  de  Keroualle,  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  The  former  was  often  in- 
vited to  Althorp,  his  country  house,  where  play  was 
the  amusement  ;  and  the  latter  was  known  at  his 
town  house  in  Queen  Street  to  win  enormous  sums 
of  him  at  basset.  His  wife  was  his  strong  ally,  ready 
always  to  gain  the  end  in  view  by  intrigue  of  any 
kind.  She  was  one  of  those  who  initiated  the  plan 
of  the  absurd  wedding  which  reconciled  Louise  de 


ANNE    DIGBY  215 

Keroualle  to  her  position  in  England,  and  later  she 
did  her  best  to  ingratiate  herself  with  Mary  of 
Modena. 

The  Earl  was  despatched,  in  1671,  upon  an  embassy 
to  Spain,  and  the  next  year  was  appointed  Ambassador 
Extraordinary  to  the  French  King.  Later  he  was 
admitted  to  the  Privy  Council  at  Windsor  and  was 
made  a  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber. 

Evelyn  speaks  of  taking  a  farewell  dinner  with 
Lady  Sunderland  before  she  went  to  Paris  with  her 
husband  on  his  appointment,  concerning  which  he 
says  :  "  She  made  me  stay  dinner  at  Leicester  House, 
and  afterwards  sent  for  Richardson,  the  famous  fire- 
eater.  He  devoured  brimstone  on  glowing  coal 
before  us,  chewing  and  swallowing  them  ;  he  melted 
a  beer  glass  and  ate  it  quite  up  ;  then,  taking  a  live 
coal  on  his  tongue,  he  put  on  it  a  raw  oyster,  the  coal 
was  blown  on  with  bellows  till  it  flamed  and  sparkled 
in  his  mouth,  and  so  remained  till  the  oyster  gaped 
and  was  quite  boiled.  Then  he  melted  pitch  and 
wax  with  sulphur,  which  he  drank  down  as  it  flamed  ; 
I  saw  it  flaming  in  his  mouth  for  a  good  while  ;  he 
also  took  up  a  thick  piece  of  iron,  such  as  laundresses 
use  to  put  in  their  smoothing  boxes,  when  it  was 
fiery  hot,  held  it  between  his  teeth,  then  in  his  hand, 
and  threw  it  about  like  a  stone  ;  but  this  I  observed 
he  cared  not  to  hold  very  long  ;  then  he  stood  on  a 
small  pot,  and,  bending  his  body,  took  a  glowing  iron 
with  his  mouth  from  between  his  feet,  without  touch- 
ing the  pot  or  ground  with  his  hands ;  with  divers 
other  prodigious  feats." 

Verily  a  wonderful  fire-eater  ! 

On    another    occasion    Evelyn    went    with    Lady 


2i6    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Sunderland  to  dine  with  her  mother,  Lady  Bristol, 
at  Chelsea,  in  the  great  house  at  the  north  end  of 
Beaufort  Row,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  and  known  by  his  name,  but  later  bought 
by  the  Duke  of  Beaufort,  and  called  Beaufort  House. 
He  tells  us  that  the  house  was  ill-contrived,  though 
being  a  spacious  and  excellent  place  for  the  extent 
of  ground  about  it,  and  that  there  was  in  the  garden 
a  rare  collection  of  orange  trees,  "  of  which  she  was 
pleased  to  bestow  some  upon  me." 

The  allusions  in  Evelyn  to  his  meetings  with  the 
Countess  and  with  the  Earl  are  innumerable,  and 
generally  are  of  much  the  same  teror.  On  more 
than  one  occasion  Evelyn  is  desired  to  be  go-between 
in  a  matrimonial  arrangement.  On  May  i6th,  1681, 
Lady  Sunderland  has  begun  to  feel  desirous  to  settle 
her  son,  Lord  Spencer,  who  could  not  have  been 
then  more  than  fifteen  years  of  age.  The  little 
woman  she  desired  for  the  bride  was  Jane,  the  twelve- 
year-old  daughter  of  Sir  Stephen  Fox.  Poor  Evelyn 
says  :  "  I  excused  myself  all  I  was  able  ;  for  the  truth 
is,  I  was  afraid  he  would  prove  an  extravagant  man  : 
for,  though  a  youth  of  extraordinary  parts,  and  had 
an  excellent  education  to  render  him  a  worthy  man, 
yet  his  early  inclinations  to  extravagance  made  me 
apprehensive  that  I  should  not  serve  Sir  Stephen  by 
proposing  it,  like  a  friend  ;  this  being  now  his  only 
daughter,  well  bred,  and  likely  to  receive  a  large  share 
of  her  father's  opulence.  .  .  .  However,  so  earnest 
and  importunate  was  the  Countess,  that  I  did  men- 
tion it  to  Sir  Stephen,  who  said  that  it  was  too  great 
an  honour,  that  his  daughter  was  very  young  as  well 
as  my  Lord,  and  he  was  resolved  never  to  marry  her 


ANNE    DIGBY  217 

without  the  parties'  mutual  Uking  ;  with  other  ob- 
jections w^hich  I  neither  would  nor  could  contradict." 
The  sensible  baronet  added  that  he  did  not  think 
his  girl  capable  of  feeling  or  expressing  a  preference 
until  she  was  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  old,  and 
begged  Evelyn  to  put  the  matter  off  as  civilly  as  he 
could. 

Lord  Sunderland  had  at  this  time  fallen  out  of 
favour  with  the  King  for  having  sided  with  the 
Commons  about  the  succession,  which,  adds  Evelyn 
acutely,  "  he  did  not  do  out  of  his  own  inclination,  or 
for  the  preservation  of  the  Protestant  religion  ;  but 
because  he  mistook  the  ability  of  the  party  to  carry  it." 
He  was  also  a  great  gamester,  and  by  his  prodigalities 
had  much  lessened  his  estate.  This  prejudiced  Sir 
Stephen  Fox  against  the  match,  for  Lord  Sunderland 
made  no  secret  of  his  doings,  as  his  wife  proves 
to  us  in  a  letter  to  his  uncle,  Henry  Sidney,  in  which 
she  says  :  "  My  Lord  has  fallen  again  to  play  to  a 
more  violent  degree  than  ever,  all  day  and  night.  It 
makes  the  horridest  noise  in  the  world  :  'tis  talked 
of  in  all  the  coffee-houses,  and  'tis  for  such  vast 
sums — he  plays  for  ;^5ooo  in  a  night  at  la  Basset.'''' 

Henry  Sidney  was  but  a  year  older  than  his  nephew 
and  was  of  an  appearance  and  manner  calculated  to 
win  any  impressionable  woman's  heart.  Bishop 
Burnet  says  of  him  that  he  was  "  a  graceful  man, 
and  one  who  had  lived  long  in  the  Court,  where 
he  had  some  adventures  that  became  very  public. 
He  was  a  man  of  a  sweet  and  caressing  temper, 
had  no  malice  in  his  heart,  but  too  great  a  love  of 
pleasure." 


2i8    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Whether  there  really  existed  an  intrigue  between 
him  and  his  nephew's  wife  it  is  now  impossible  to 
say.  Both  Lord  and  Lady  Sunderland  were  of  so 
crafty  a  disposition  that  they  might  have  been  capable 
of  giving  a  public  impression  to  that  effect  as  a  cloak 
for  their  political  scheming.  While  Sunderland  was 
the  trusted  adviser  of  King  James  he  was  keeping 
up  a  secret  correspondence  with  William  of  Orange, 
through  his  wife  in  England  and  Henry  Sidney  near 
the  Prince.  Lady  Sunderland's  letters  to  Sidney 
are  very  different  from  those  she  sent  to  Evelyn ; 
in  them  is  nothing  of  religion  or  devotion,  but 
much  of  politics,  written  partly  in  cipher,  and 
many  warm  expressions  of  concern  about  Sidney's 
welfare. 

Rightly  or  wrongly,  Sunderland  was  suspected  of 
planning  to  put  Monmouth  on  the  throne,  and  he  is 
credited  with  offering  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
to  obtain  the  succession  to  the  throne  for  her  son, 
the  Duke  of  Richmond.  Later  on  he  was  one  who, 
while  outwardly  loyal,  did  his  best  by  betraying 
English  plans  and  occurrences  to  give  William  of 
Orange  the  chance  of  wearing  the  English  crown. 
The  Sunderlands  were  always  looking  forward,  pre- 
paring for  eventualities  while  hanging  with  all  their 
strength  to  the  present  disposition  of  affairs.  By 
these  means  Sunderland  made  himself  useful  to  three 
kings,  yet  eventually  lived  an  idle,  unhappy  life,  exiled 
to  his  country  house  for  several  years  before  he  died. 
It  was  while  he  was  intriguing  with  William  that  the 
correspondence  was  carried  on  between  Anne  and 
Sidney,   and   taking  into  account   the  fact   that   the 


ANNE    DIGBY  219 

letters  of  that  day  were  of  a  stilted,  reserved  character, 
some  of  those  written  by  Lady  Sunderland  show  a 
very  ardent  feeling  for  the  absent  cavalier.  "  I  won't 
go  about  to  tell  you  the  pain  I  have  been  in  for  your 
being  so  sick,  and  consequently  the  comfort  it  is  to 
me  to  hear  you  are  better,  and  then  how  all  joyed  I 
am  to  think  we  shall  have  you  here  awhile  with  us." 
"  I  am  overjoyed  at  your  being  able  to  come  hither  so 
soon.  Pray  God  send  you  well.  ...  I  will  be  sure 
to  do  whatever  you  will  have  me,  and  I  shall  be  more 
pleased  than  I  can  express  if  ever  I  can  serve  you  in 
anything."  "  I  can  think  of  nothing  with  any  patience 
unless  you  come  over.  I  am  confident  you  will  never 
recover  your  health  where  you  are  ;  therefore,  pray 
come  away;  though  you  be  lifted  in  your  bed  into 
the  yacht,  pray  do.  I  will  take  care  to  have  your 
lodgings  ready  here,  and  good  ones  at  Windsor,* 
though  your  own  cannot  be  ready  this  year."  "  I 
hope  you  will  receive  an  everlasting  reward  for  all 
the  trouble  and  pains  you  take  in  a  good  cause,  and 
that  it  will  succeed  to  your  heart's  desire.  I  cannot 
but  lament  at  the  signs  I  see  of  your  being  kept 
longer  from  this  poor  closet,  w'here  I  wish  you  very 
often  in  a  day,  and  hope  I  am  not  mistaken  in  thinking 
my  mind  and  yours  agree  in  that  particular." 

Over-friendly  as  these  letters  are  to  a  man  who 
can  in  no  way  be  classed  with  the  ordinary  avuncular 
relation,  they  might  have  been  put  down  to  an 
over-expansive  sentimentality,  but  that  Lady  Sunder- 
land was  in   no  way  troubled  by  that  quality,  and 

*   Where  Lady  Sunderland  passed  some  of  her  time  on  duty. 


220    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

there  is  on  record  a  damaging  retort  made  by  her 
husband  to  Barillon,  the  French  ambassador.  Bonrepos, 
another  French  emissary  in  England,  also  reported 
the  same  fact  to  his  master  Louis. 

As  has  been  said,  part  of  Anne's  letters  to  Sidney 
were  written  in  cipher,  but  even  then  she  believed 
them  opened  and  their  contents  made  known  to 
the  King,  though  it  is  probable  that  the  ciphers 
were  not  translated.  In  July,  1678,  Barillon  wrote 
to  Louis  XIV  concerning  the  letters  which  for  some 
time  Lady  Sunderland  had  been  writing  "  to  Mr. 
Sidney,  who  is  with  the  Prince  of  Orange  and  stands 
well  with  him.  The  King  of  England  has  had  know- 
ledge of  these  letters,  which  Lady  Sunderland,  how- 
ever, disowns,  and  my  Lord  Sunderland  gets  out  of 
the  matter  by  saying  that  even  if  these  letters  from 
his  wife  were  not  forged  it  would  be  impossible  that 
he  could  have  had  any  part  in  them,  seeing  that  it 
was  only  too  well  known  that  his  wife  was  sus- 
pected of  having  an  amorous  intrigue  with  Sidney, 
and  that  it  was  not  probable  that  he  would  put  his 
fortune  and  his  life  into  the  hands  of  a  man  whom 
he  ought  to  hate." 

Where  lay  truth  or  falsehood  in  this  matter  it  is 
now  impossible  to  say,  but  whether  Anne  and  Sidney 
were  guilty,  or  whether  the  Earl's  excuse  was  an 
arranged  thing  among  the  three  of  them,  our  respect 
for  the  lady  is  not  increased,  indeed,  we  sympathize 
a  little  with  Queen  Anne  in  her  condemnation  of 
this  Madame  Facing-both-ways. 

There  is  one  other  thing  which  Lady  Sunderland 
knew   full   well,   a   little   secret   which   all  people  in 


ANNE    DIGBY  221 

England  and  many  on  the  Continent  were  anxious 
to  know,  but  which  has — because  of  human  in- 
creduhty — never  been  really  satisfactorily  settled. 
She  knew  whether  a  prince  was  really  born  to  Mary 
Beatrice  that  Easter  night  of  1688  in  the  cur- 
tained alcove  of  the  Queen's  bedroom,  but  even 
concerning  this  affair  she  could  not  speak  straight- 
forwardly. 

Surely  it  was  a  situation  without  parallel,  if  the 
birth  was  a  fraud  !  Here  was  a  woman  intriguing 
with  the  Prince  of  Orange,  hoping  to  get  into  his 
good  graces  when  he  should  be  powerful,  and  to  that 
end  betraying  the  secrets  of  English  diplomacy.  She 
was  aided  and  abetted  by  her  husband  and  by  her 
lover,  and  the  husband  that  he  might  safeguard 
himself  on  every  side  became  a  Catholic,  assuring 
Barillon,  the  servant  of  William's  greatest  enemy, 
Louis  XIV,  of  his  attachment  to  that  monarch.  While 
his  wife  was  giving  her  country  away  to  the  Dutch 
Prince,  he  was  giving  it  away  to  the  French  King, 
to  such  an  extent  that  Barillon  suggested  to  Louis 
that  nothing  less  than  a  pension  of  ;^6ooo  a  year  to 
his  lordship  would  meet  the  case.  Concurrently  with 
this,  Lady  Sunderland  was,  according  to  one  account, 
one  of  the  only  two  ladies  who  were  present  at  the 
bedside  of  Mary  when  her  baby  was  born.  Lady 
Belasyse  being  the  other,  but  when  she  was  examined 
later  concerning  the  matter  her  answers  were  as  eva- 
sive and  double  as  her  whole  conduct. 

It  is  not  possible  to  discuss  this  event  here :  the 
accounts  were  so  varying  and  opposed  that  no  one 
will  ever  be  quite  certain  as  to  the  truth,  though  the 


222    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

evidence  weighs  down  heavily  on  Mary  Beatrice's 
side.  The  assertions  were  :  that  a  child  was  born ; 
that  no  birth  took  place  ;  that  the  child  died  im- 
mediately and  another  was  substituted  ;  that  the 
second  child  died  o£  fits  in  a  week  or  two  and  a  third 
was  put  in  its  place  ;  that  the  King  and  eighteen 
Councillors  stood  in  a  row  facing  the  alcove  behind 
the  closed  curtains  of  which  lay  the  Queen  ;  that  the 
side  curtains  were  drawn  away,  and  when  the  Queen 
was  in  great  pain  the  Chancellor  and  the  Privy  Coun- 
cillors came  to  the  bedside  to  show  they  were  there  ! 
So  the  stories  contradicted  each  other,  and  no  one 
was  satisfied.  When  all  was  over  Lady  Sunderland 
came  forward  to  announce  the  safe  delivery  of  a  child, 
and  on  being  asked  as  to  its  sex,  touched  her  forehead, 
upon  which  James  said  he  knew  it  was  a  boy. 

A  few  months  later  the  King,  the  Queen,  one  of 
the  three  babies  mentioned,  some  of  the  Councillors, 
and  Lady  Sunderland  were  seeking  safety  on  other 
shores. 

In  September,  1688,  Anne  wrote  to  Sidney  asking 
his  advice  as  to  the  place  they  should  fly  to,  and  at  the 
same  time  assuring  him  that  William  of  Orange  had 
not  a  more  faithful  servant  than  herself  in  England. 
In  October  she  wrote  a  pious  letter  to  Evelyn,  say- 
ing that  "  God  governs  the  world  and  will  certainly 
do  what  is  best  for  those  that  serve  Him,"  and  then 
in  November  came  the  dramatic  and  painful  flight 
from  England.  Before  the  King  fled,  however, 
Sunderland  was  disgraced,  for  James  discovered  that 
the  original  draft  of  a  treaty  between  himself  and 
Louis  XIV  was  missing  from  the  Earl's  care,  and  he 


ANNE    DIGBY  223 

fell  into  a  great  rage  against  his  minister.  He,  however, 
bestowed  his  pardon  upon  him.  "  You  have  your 
pardon — much  good  may  it  do  you.  I  hope  you  will 
be  more  faithful  to  your  next  master  than  you  have 
been  to  me,"  said  James.  This  in  some  magical  way 
gave  Sunderland  the  power  of  raising  a  large  sum 
of  money.  With  this,  and  a  considerable  amount 
of  bullion  quietly  abstracted  from  the  jewel  office, 
he  departed  to  Rotterdam,  disguised  in  woman's 
clothes. 

Then  William  came  to  England,  and  this  juggler 
with  events,  this  unprincipled  servant  of  many 
masters,  found  himself  left  by  every  one.  He  had 
to  the  last  clung  to  a  ministry  which  was  odious  to 
the  new  King,  he  had  turned  Catholic  when  it  was 
too  late  to  serve  any  but  an  ill  purpose  for  himself, 
and  he  had  stolen  from  the  public  treasury.  He  was 
arrested  by  the  Dutch  authorities,  but  soon  released  ; 
but  when  the  Act  of  Indemnity  was  confirmed,  in 
1690,  he  was  exempted  ;  so  there  was  no  return  to 
England  for  him.  He  and  his  wife  remained  at 
Amsterdam  in  discomfort  and  perturbation  of  mind ; 
then,  thinking  their  case  not  so  desperate  perhaps, 
they  each  wrote  a  submissive  letter  to  William. 
After  much  trouble  they  were  given  the  cold  com- 
fort of  being  allowed  to  live  unmolested  in  Holland, 
and  Lady  Sunderland  says  pathetically,  that  all  their 
ambition  is  bounded  to  being  quietly  in  Holland  for 
the  present,  and  at  Althorp  for  the  rest  of  their 
lives. 

Whatever  had  been  Sunderland's  supposed  hatred 
for  his  uncle,  Sidney,  he  wrote  beseeching  letters  to 


224    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

him  for  aid  and  influence,  in  one  of  which  he  desires 
his  help  that  he  may  "  be  quiet  at  Althorp,  and  not 
to  be  starved."  Later  on  the  Sunderlands  went  to 
Utrecht,  where  Lord  Sunderland  was  frequent  in 
his  attendance  at  the  French  Protestant  church,  which 
was  probably  one  way  he  took  into  William's  forgive- 
ness ;  and  upon  which  Lady  Sunderland  wrote  a 
very  devout  letter  to  Evelyn,  filled  with  praises  to 
Almighty  God. 

In  1691  they  had  their  reward  in  that  they  were 
then  allowed  to  return  to  England  to  kiss  the  King's 
hand  ;  and  soon  after  Sunderland  was  thoroughly  in 
favour.  He  was  freed  from  his  liability  for  the  eight 
thousand  ounces  of  bullion  he  had  "  borrowed  "  from 
the  Treasury,  and  he  even  had  the  honour  of  enter- 
taining the  King  at  Althorp  for  several  days. 

But  as  long  as  Sunderland  lived  he  would  be  a 
political  intriguer,  and  he  became  so  distrusted  by 
every  one  that  he  was  obliged  to  spend  the  last  two 
or  three  years  of  his  life  in  retirement  at  Althorp, 
where  he  died  in  1702.  Lady  Sunderland  was  Lady 
of  the  Bedchamber  to  Anne,  as  she  had  been  to  Mary 
of  Modena,  and  died  at  Althorp,  at  a  good  age,  in 
1 7 16.  She  was  a  clever,  versatile  woman,  and,  as 
Anne  had  said  w^hen  princess,  she  was  a  true  mate 
to  her  husband. 

Sunderland  is  said  to  have  been  the  introducer, 
in  about  1678,  of  what  Roger  North  called  "a  court 
tune,"  a  most  affected  way  of  speaking  in  which  the 
vowel  sounds  were  lengthened  thus  :  "  Whaat,  my 
laard,  if  His  Maajesty  taarns  out  faarty  of  us,  may  he 
not  haave  faarty  others  to  saarve  him  as  well,  and 


ANNE    DIGBY  225 

whaat  maatters  who  saarves  His  Maajesty  so  long  as 
His  Maajesty  is  saarved  ?  "  It  was  this  affectation 
which  Titus  Oates  adopted,  with  his  "  Aie,  Taitus 
Oaates,"  etc.  And  that  put  the  silly  trick  out  of 
fashion. 


PART  II 
SIMON    VERELST 


VERELST 

"  When  famed  Verelst  this  little  wonder  drew, 
"Flora  vouchsaf'd  the  growing  work  to  view  ; 
Finding  the  painter's  science  at  a  stand, 
The  goddess  snatch'd  the  pencil  from  his  hand, 
And  finishing  the  piece,  she  smiling  said, 
'  Behold  one  work  of  mine  that  ne'er  shall  fade.' " 

Prior. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

LOUISE   RENEE   DE    KEROUALLE,  DUCHESS    OF 
PORTSMOUTH 

"  I  am  of  opinion  that  in  King  Charles's  latter  times  there  was  as 
much  of  laziness  as  of  love,  in  all  those  hours  he  passed  among 
his  mistresses ;  who,  after  all,  only  served  to  fill  up  his  seraglio, 
while  a  bewitching  kind  of  pleasure  called  sauntering  and  talking 
without  restraint  was  the  true  Sultana  queen  he  delighted  in." 

Sheffield,  Duke  of  Buckingham, 

"  Woe  be  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  now  that  the  ladies  are  got 
into  council." — Lady  Dorothy  Sunderland. 

Charles  IPs  gallery  of  fair  women  included  a  speci- 
men of  every  sort,  from  the  dark  Bellona-like  Duchess 
of  Cleveland,  with  her  coarse  mind  and  fiery  temper, 
to  the  light-hearted,  sincere,  and  vulgar-tongued  Nell 
Gwyn.  Lucy  Walters  had  long  gone  to  the  bad  ;  the 
dainty,  cautious  Frances  Stuart  had  been  married, 
and  as  wife  and  widow  had  been  kinder  to  her  King 
than  when  a  maid  ;  Moll  Davies  had  also  been  married 
off,  and  various  other  light  dames  had  come  and  gone. 
Charles  was  somewhat  at  a  loose  end,  for  there  was 
no  one  to  arouse  a  grand  passion  in  his  vacant  mind. 
Thus  he  was  ready  to  be  caught  by  any  fresh  face, 
and  his  sister  Henrietta,  Duchess  of  Orleans,  uncon- 
sciously provided  him  with  what  he  wanted. 

It  was  necessary  to  the  plans  of  Louis  that  England 
should  not  only  be  friendly  to  France,  but  that  there 

229 


230    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

should  be  an  alliance  signed  by  which  active  help 
should  be  given  to  Louis's  foreign  policy,  particu- 
larly to  his  plans  against  the  Dutch.  Thus  Henrietta 
was  sent  to  England  to  negotiate  the  first  treaty  of 
Dover  ;  and  for  diplomacy's  sake  the  meeting  was 
given  the  air  of  a  quasi-accidental  affair,  brought 
about  by  impulsive  affection.  To  cover  it  Louis,  with 
a  retinue  of  30,000  soldiers,  marched  gravely  to  view 
his  new  Flanders  provinces,  taking  with  him  in  his 
coach  his  wife,  A^Iadame  de  Montespan  and  Henrietta, 
the  journey  being  regarded  as  a  kind  of  triumphal 
progress  all  the  way. 

At  Dunkerque  Henrietta  asserted  her  determina- 
tion to  fly  over  to  England  and  see  her  brother,  and 
embarking  with  a  small  company,  landed  at  Dover, 
where  Charles,  by  secret  arrangement,  came  to  meet 
her.  In  her  train  she  brought,  as  maid  of  honour,  a 
young  woman  named  Louise  de  Penancoet  de  Kerou- 
alle,  who  belonged  to  an  ancient  Brittany  family. 
Her  father,  Guillaume  de  Penancoet,  married  Marie 
de  Rieux,  and  they  had  three  children.  However 
honourable  were  these  children  in  point  of  pedigree, 
it  does  not  appear  that  the  parents  were  either  rich 
or  holding  a  great  position,  but  their  ancestry  did  at 
least  cause  Louise  to  have  the  chance  of  living  near 
Royalty.  Calumny  or  truth,  it  is  impossible  to  say 
which,  asserted  that  her  parents  sent  Louise  to 
Henrietta's  Court,  hoping  that  Louis  would  throw 
her  the  handkerchief,  but  he  was  engaged  at  the  time 
in  making  love  to  the  gentle  Louise  de  la  Valliere,  and 
the  new  maid  of  honour  soon  found  a  recipient  for 
her  flirtatious  glances  in  the  Comte  de  Sault.  However 
innocent  may  have  been  this  episode,  the  girl's  fair 


Louise  dk  Keroiam.e,  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  as  Flora 

{After   Verelsf) 

[to  face  page  23C 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     231 

fame  was  tarnished,  and  this  fact  was  not  forgotten 
later  when  a  nation  had  cause  to  hate  her  very  name. 
A  story  was  also  told  that  she  secretly  left  the  house 
of  an  aunt  in  Paris,  and  in  the  dress  of  a  page  accom- 
panied the  Duke  of  Beaufort  on  his  expedition  to 
Candia,  being  away  with  him  for  four  months.  But 
this  was  mere  scandal,  as  during  those  months  she 
was  fulfilling  her  duties  at  the  Court  of  Henrietta. 
Her  brother,  Sebastian,  however,  went  with  the 
Beaufort  expedition  and  died  a  few  days  after  his 
return. 

When,  during  the  following  year,  Louise  went  to 
Dover  with  Henrietta  she  was  about  twenty-one, 
possessed  of  a  "  baby  face,  melancholy  eyes,  and  a 
languid  walk."  Though  there  was  probably  no  pre- 
meditation in  choosing  the  girl  to  be  present  at  the 
conference  between  the  brother  and  sister,  there  is 
no  doubt  that  she  made  a  great  impression  upon 
Charles,  who  found  a  charm  in  the  conversation  of 
this  fair  and  sad  young  Breton  ;  and  w^ho  prolonged 
the  conference  for  ten  or  twelve  days  beyond  the 
stated  time,  that  he  might  see  more  of  her. 

Henrietta's  husband  was  of  a  jealous  disposition, 
effeminate  and  false  ;  he  suspected  every  one  who 
came  in  contact  with  his  wife,  and  he  is  said  even  to 
have  suspected  her  brother's  affection  for  her.  It 
w-as  with  great  reluctance,  and  only  because  of  the 
King's  orders,  that  he  consented  that  she  should  stay 
the  requisite  time,  and  a  month  after  her  return  she 
died.  She  herself  and  all  the  world  said  she  had 
been  poisoned,  but  at  the  autopsy  this  was  denied, 
just  as  it  was  after  the  death  of  Lady  Denham  and  of 
Charles  II  himself. 


232     FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

This  event  caused  a  coldness  between  the  English 
and  French  Courts,  which  did  not  at  all  suit  Louis, 
who  had  tried  various  ways  of  influencing  Charles  to 
his  will.  At  last,  remembering  the  liking  the  King  of 
England  had  shown  to  Louise  de  Keroualle,  he  deter- 
mined to  send  her  over  the  Channel  to  see  what  she 
could  do  in  furthering  his  schemes.  Bishop  Burnet 
gives  the  credit  of  this  suggestion  to  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  that  versatile  genius,  unparalleled  profli- 
gate and  enemy  to  his  country.  He  was  jealous  of 
the  influence  with  the  King  of  his  cousin  Barbara, 
and  being  ready  to  do  her  any  injury,  he  is  said  to 
have  improved  the  occasion  of  Madame's  death  by 
telling  Charles  that  the  only  decent  thing  he  could 
do  would  be  to  take  care  of  some  of  her  servants,  and 
by  more  or  less  pointed  words  indicated  those  who 
would  need  his  care  the  most.  He  also  wrote  to  the 
King  of  France,  telling  him  how  impossible  it  would 
be  for  him  to  keep  any  ascendancy  over  Charles  unless 
he  had  some  one  in  close  connection  with  him  who 
would  foster  French  interests,  and  suggested  that  a 
mistress  was  likely  longest  to  keep  the  King's  feet 
in  the  way  they  should  go.  He  even  went  so  far 
as  to  offer  to  escort  the  lady  to  England,  which  offer 
was  naturally  accepted. 

Having  some  affair  to  finish  in  Paris  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  sent  Louise  de  Keroualle  on  to  Dieppe 
with  some  of  his  servants,  he  intending  to  follow  and 
embark  there  with  her.  So  much  being  done,  he  dis- 
missed the  whole  matter  from  his  mind,  and  when  he 
had  completed  his  business  he  calmly  returned  home 
via  Calais.  The  neglected  beauty  remained  at  Dieppe 
for  a  considerable  time,  with  no  escort  but  strange 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     233 

servants  and  no  money  to  pay  the  heavy  expenses  in- 
curred. Ralph  Montagu,  who  was  then  ambassador 
at  Paris,  heard  of  this,  and  was  quick  to  seize  the 
advantage  given  him.  He  sent  to  England  for  a  yacht, 
which  Charles  at  once  commanded  to  take  sail,  and 
he  also  sent  some  of  his  own  servants  to  wait  upon 
her  and  to  defray  all  expenses.  Once  arrived  in 
England,  Arlington,  then  at  loggerheads  with  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  met  her  and  smoothed  the  rest 
of  the  journey.  Louise  de  Keroualle  was  a  firm 
friend,  and  always  remained  a  supporter  of  Arlington, 
thus  Buckingham,  by  his  own  irresponsibility,  lost  an 
influence  which  would  have  stood  him  in  good  stead 
for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

The  sight  of  the  girl  with  her  melancholy  eyes  so 
reminded  Charles  of  his  well-beloved  sister  that  he 
wept  and  fell  into  a  sentimental  mood,  naming  her 
maid  of  honour  to  his  wife  on  the  spot.  Almost  im- 
mediately the  relations  between  France  and  England 
grew  less  strained.  This  must  have  been  in  the 
summer  of  1670,  for  Evelyn  writes  in  the  autumn 
of  having  seen  "  that  famous  beauty,  but  in  my 
opinion  of  a  childish,  simple,  and  baby  face,  Made- 
moiselle de  Keroualle,  lately  maid  of  honour  to 
Madame,  and  now  to  be  so  to  the  Queen." 

At  first  Louise  was  coy,  whether  it  was  coquetry, 
or  a  deep  design  to  make  her  position  as  tenable  as 
possible  one  cannot  say,  but  for  some  months  she 
occupied  herself  with  her  duties,  and  in  preserving 
an  attitude  of  aloofness  towards  the  monarch,  whose 
amorous  inclinations  would  by  that  means  become 
the  more  accentuated.  She  had  to  learn  something 
of  the  nature  of  the  people  among  whom  she  was  to 


234    l^AIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

live  and  especially  o£  that  of  her  great  rival  Lady 
Castlemaine,  never  dreaming  that  though  she  might 
triumph  over  her,  there  was  another  humbler  courtesan 
whom  she  could  not  conquer. 

Castlemaine  herself  felt  that  at  last  her  real  hold 
over  the  King  had  slipped,  and  she  was  rather  intent 
upon  saving  as  much  as  possible  from  the  wreck  than 
upon  fighting  the  French  girl.  This  may  have  been 
the  time  when  Gramont  tells  us  he  acted  as  mediator 
between  her  and  the  King,  possibly  on  one  of  the  long 
visits  to  England  which  he  occasionally  made  after 
his  marriage,  but  he  does  not  mention  Louise,  and 
the  Countess  became  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  early 
in  August,  1670.  It  was  therefore  possible  that  this 
honour  had  been  asked  before  the  arrival  of  Made- 
moiselle de  Keroualle.  The  success  of  the  demand 
was  at  once  followed  by  a  further  exaction,  and 
Charles  made  Barbara's  eldest  son  the  Marquis  of 
Southampton,  and  the  second  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land, Joscelyn  Percy,  the  last  of  his  line,  having  died. 

As  far  as  can  be  judged,  Louise  was  anxious  that 
Charles  should  be  off  with  the  old  love  before  he  was 
on  with  the  new,  and  so  encouraged  and  then  repulsed 
him  that  he  must  have  wondered  whether  another 
Frances  Stuart  had  arisen  to  torment  him.  The  in- 
fluence of  Barbara  had  waned  to  such  an  extent  that 
in  1668  she  had  practically  retired  from  Whitehall, 
and  though  her  name  was  still  on  the  list  of  bed- 
chamber women  she  scarcely  ever  attended  the  Queen, 
and  in  1672,  owing  to  the  operation  of  the  Test  Act, 
her  name  was  removed.  But  before  this  happened 
Louise  de  Keroualle  had  come  to  be  pubHcly  owned 
by  the  King. 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     235 

Through  her  first  winter  in  England  she  had  never 
ceased  in  her  endeavour  to  prove  herself  better  look- 
ing, better  dressed,  and  more  desirable  than  all  those 
in  England  who  might  rival  her.  Her  behaviour  was 
one  long  attempt  to  fascinate  Charles,  and  she  was  so 
reluctant  to  grant  him  any  favour  that  the  French 
ambassador,  the  French  King,  and  even  the  French 
Court  were  thrown  into  fits  of  despondency,  for  fear 
that  her  mission  to  England  should  be  a  failure. 
This  depression  was  shared  by  those  great  Englishmen 
who  feared  lest  the  bribes  and  pensions  doled  out 
by  Louis  should  be  discontinued,  so  at  last  Arlington 
and  Sunderland  determined  to  make  a  brave  attempt 
to  put  things  right. 

Charles  was  settling  his  Court  at  Newmarket  for  a 
short  time,  and  the  Arlingtons  went  down  to  their 
seat  at  Euston,  which  was  within  an  easy  ride  of  the 
town  of  races.  Lady  Arlington  prayed  the  King  as 
a  favour  to  allow  her  to  invite  Mademoiselle  de 
Keroualle  to  stay  with  her,  and  he  did  not  hesitate 
in  giving  his  consent.  Colbert,  the  French  ambassador, 
was  not  only  one  of  the  guests,  but  in  the  conspiracy, 
and  good  honest  Evelyn  was  also  there.  He  describes 
the  house  as  a  noble  pile,  consisting  of  the  large  body 
of  a  house  and  four  pavilions  or  wings  added  to  it, 
"  not  only  very  capable  and  roomsome,  but  very 
magnificent  and  commodious,  as  well  within  as  with- 
out." 

It  had  a  wonderful  staircase,  a  great  hall,  rooms  of 
state  painted  in  fresco  by  Verrio,  so  beloved  of  the 
Stuarts.  There  were  parks  and  gardens,  orangery  and 
fountain,  but  what  pleased  Evelyn  best  was  his  own 
pretty  apartment,  to  which  he  could  retire  out  of 


236    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

the  hurry  and  gaiety  and  "  converse  with  books." 
During  the  fortnight  which  Evelyn  stayed  there, 
the  King  came  every  other  day  with  the  Duke,  the 
latter  generally  returning  the  same  day  to  Newmarket, 
while  Charles  rested  the  night,  Evelyn  twice  having 
the  honour  of  dining  with  his  sovereign.  Thus, 
though  he  was  in  the  house,  he  did  not  see  all  that 
happened  in  it,  but  he  saw  some  things  and  heard 
others.  For  instance,  he  saw  that  the  beautiful 
Louise  remained  nearly  all  day  in  her  undress  and 
that  on  the  King's  part  "  there  was  fondness  and 
toying  with  that  young  wanton,"  and  he  heard 
rumours  of  a  marriage  ceremony,  though  he  was  not 
present  at  its  performance. 

The  fact  was  that  every  one  was  anxious  to  bind 
Charles  in  the  toils  of  the  Frenchwoman,  and  no 
one  was  more  anxious  than  Charles  himself  or  than 
Louise  de  Keroualle  ;  the  only  question  being  whether 
the  psychological  moment  had  arrived  at  which  the 
lady  could  succumb  with  the  greatest  advantage  to 
herself  and  her  cause.  She  probably  decided  that  it 
had,  but  knowing  Charles's  weak  character  she  was 
determined  to  turn  her  submission  into  a  conquest 
by  making  the  compact  as  binding  as  it  could  be  upon 
Charles.  To  this  end  she  repudiated  the  idea  of  being 
simply  a  "  mistress":  she  would  be  his  wife.  Had  not 
some  ecclesiastics,  Bishop  Burnet  among  them,  de- 
cided that  as  every  man  Avas  allowed  one  wife,  a  king, 
and  particularly  this  King,  might  have  two,  especially 
as  the  wife  he  had  brought  him  no  children  ?  "  I  see 
nothing  so  strong  against  polygamy  as  to  balance  the 
great  and  visible  imminent  hazards  that  hang  over  so 
many  thousands,  if  it  be  not  allowed,"  said  Burnet  in 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE   KEROUALLE     237 

a  treatise  on  the  subject.  She  therefore  demanded 
to  be  properly  married,  and  the  marriage  took  place, 
though  whether  there  was  a  clergyman  present  is  not 
recorded. 

In  the  Secret  History  of  the  Reigns  of  Charles  II 
and,  James  II  the  event  is  thus  described  :  "  But  he 
was  more  kind  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  than  to 
any  of  his  mistresses ;  and  thence  it  was  that  .  .  . 
after  he  had  made  her  a  Duchess,  he  made  her  also 
his  wife ;  that  is  to  say,  he  married  her  by  virtue  of 
his  Royal  Prerogative  at  the  Lord  A's  house,  by  the 
Common  Prayer  Book,  according  to  the  ceremonies 
of  the  Church  of  England  :  a  thing  in  some  measure 
justifiable  in  a  prince,  since  the  Law  allows  all  men 
one  wife  ;  and  therefore  a  king,  who  is  above  Law, 
may  surely  have  two." 

There  had  been  much  love-making  to  lead  up  to 
this.  The  King  spent  several  hours  every  day  with 
Mile.  Keroualle,  and  invited  the  whole  house  party 
over  to  Newmarket  to  see  the  races.  M.  Colbert,  the 
French  ambassador,  who  was  present,  tells  how  charm- 
ingly they  were  entertained  and  how  upon  the  young 
lady  were  showered  those  small  attentions  which 
denote  a  great  passion,  and  that  she  had  not  failed 
in  showing  the  gratitude  which  the  love  of  a  great 
King  should  deserve  from  a  young  girl. 

There  remains  no  actual  description  of  this  marriage, 
save  that  it  was  contrived  by  the  great  ladies  of  the 
party,  Lady  Arlington  and  Lady  Sunderland,  and 
that  it  was  attended  with  all  the  customs  which  were 
usual  in  those  times  and  which  to-day  we  should  re- 
gard as  indecencies.  Evelyn  can  only  repeat  the 
gossip,  having  witnessed  nothing  of  the  event.     He 


238    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

mentions  that  it  was  universally  reported  that  the 
fair  lady  succumbed  "one  of  these  nights,  and  the 
stocking  flung,  after  the  manner  of  a  married  bride 
.  .  .  nay,  it  was  said  I  was  at  the  ceremony  ;  but  it 
is  utterly  false  ;  I  neither  saw  nor  heard  of  any  such 
thing  while  I  was  there,  though  I  had  been  in  her 
chamber,  and  all  over  that  apartment  late  enough, 
and  was  myself  observing  all  passages  with  much 
curiosity.  However,  it  was  with  confidence  believed 
she  was  first  made  a  Miss,  as  they  call  these  unhappy 
creatures,  with  solemnity  at  this  time." 

All  the  kingdom  talked  about  the  event,  which  gave 
the  signal  for  the  pamphleteers  to  get  to  work,  and 
their  descriptions  of  that  fortnight  at  Euston  were 
of  such  an  indecent  character — whether  written  by 
Puritan  or  Royalist — that  they  are  unrepeatable. 
That  it  pleased  Louise  to  pretend  that  she  considered 
herself  really  married  was  obvious  to  all,  and  it  is 
recorded  that  on  one  occasion  she  took  fire  at  the 
suggestion  that  it  was  not  so. 

Louis  XIV  was  at  last  satisfied ;  he  sent  his  con- 
gratulations to  the  lady,  and  formulated  the  advan- 
tages which  should  accrue  from  the  union — an  alliance 
between  England  and  France  against  Holland,  open 
profession  on  the  part  of  Charles  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith,  and  the  right  of  himself  to  choose 
a  second  wife  for  James,  Duke  of  York.  He  was 
pleased  in  one  respect,  for  war  was  declared  against 
the  Dutch  in  March,  1672,  but  Louise  was  too  cautious 
to  press  the  conversion  of  the  King  until  she  was  sure 
of  success,  and  as  for  the  third  desired  result  there 
were  many  motives  at  work  causing  some  friction 
before  the  matter  was  settled. 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE   KEROUALLE     239 

At  the  end  of  July,  1672,  Louise  bore  the  King 
a  son,  who  was  named  Charles  Lennox,  and  later 
given  the  title  o£  Duke  of  Richmond,  and  from  that 
time  on  her  desire  to  be  queen  was  apparent  to 
every  one,  for  according  to  the  despatches  sent  from 
the  ambassador  to  Louis,  and  given  to  us  in  book 
form  by  Monsieur  H.  Forneron,  she  did  not  know 
how  to  behave  in  her  "  good  fortune  "  and  had  got 
it  into  her  head  that  she  might  still  become  Queen 
of  England,  and  was  always  talking  of  the  Queen's 
maladies  as  though  they  were  mortal.  Charles  on  his 
part  loved  her  well,  but  he  went  his  own  way  never- 
theless, gossip  having  it  that  he  spent  ;£7000  on  Lady 
Falmouth  from  May  to  December  of  1673,  and 
^40,000  on  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland. 

But  we  must  remember  that  the  very  interesting 
letters  sent  to  Louis  by  his  emissaries  in  England  were 
composed  of  as  much  gossip  as  was  the  diary  of 
Pepys,  and  can  by  no  means  be  taken  as  true  records 
of  facts.  Though  Barbara  was  at  this  time  not  re- 
garded as  in  close  connection  with  the  King,  she 
was  doing  her  utmost  to  build  up  a  fortune  for  her- 
self— it  would  have  been  quite  as  easy  to  hold  water 
in  a  sieve  —  and  to  provide  for  her  children;  thus, 
though  she  had  a  whole  posse  of  lovers,  she  did  not 
let  Charles  forget  her,  her  role  being  gaiety  and 
laughter,  with  an  occasional  row  to  dispel  monotony. 
Louise,  on  the  other  hand,  found  tears  most  useful 
when  she  wished  to  cajole  a  lover  or  discredit  her 
rival,  and  Dryden  tells  us  in  his  "  Essay  on  Satire  "  : 

"  In  loyal  libels  we  have  often  told  him 
How  one  has  jilted,  and  the  other  sold  him  ; 
How  that  affects  to  laugh,  how  this  to  weep." 


240    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

In  return  for  this  and  a  few  other  remarks  Dryden 
found  awaiting  him  in  Covent  Garden  one  night 
three  stout  ruffians,  who  used  their  cudgels  upon  him 
with  severe  effect,  and  were  very  careful  to  run  away 
and  hide  as  soon  as  they  heard  some  one  coming  ; 
for  which  assault  Louise  had  all  the  credit. 

As  to  the  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  York,  King 
Louis  had  decided  that  the  widow  of  the  Due  de 
Guise  would  serve  him  best  as  Duchess  of  York,  but 
James  had  a  prejudice  against  that  lady,  who  w^as  well 
advanced  in  years  and  plain  of  face.  Louise  wanted 
him  to  marry  one  of  two  sisters,  daughters  of  the 
Due  d'Elboeuf,  and  she  hung  their  portraits  about 
her  room,  hoping  James  would  be  attracted.  He, 
however,  declared  them  to  be  too  young :  they  were 
somewhere  between  eleven  and  fourteen.  The  French 
ambassador  was  annoyed  with  her  behaviour  and  in- 
fluenced Arlington  against  her,  who  hotly  reproached 
her  with  having  forgotten  the  obligations  she  was 
under  to  him  as  easily  as  she  forgot  the  dinners  she 
ate.  As  James  had  made  up  his  mind  to  have  some 
sort  of  choice  in  his  own  marriage,  neither  Louis 
nor  Louise  succeeded  in  their  schemes,  and  the  two 
pretty  sisters  were  immured  in  a  convent. 

The  people  of  England  had  a  profound  distrust 
of  France  and  her  King,  and  from  the  first  they 
hated  the  Frenchwoman  who  was  acquiring  such  a 
strong  influence  at  Court,  yet  she  contrived  always 
to  strengthen  her  position,  and  was  naturalized  as  an 
Englishwoman  at  the  request  of  Louis.  Following 
this,  in  August,  1673,  Charles  created  her  Baroness 
Petersfield,  Countess  of  Farnham,  and  Duchess  of 
Pendennis.      The   last  title  was  immediately  altered 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     241 

for  unknown  reasons  to  Duchess  of  Portsmouth. 
Last  o£  all,  before  the  year  was  out  she  was  made 
Lady  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Queen.  Poor  Queen  ! 
she  must  have  been  fairly  well  hardened  to  having 
people  of  that  sort  about  her. 

Apropos  of  Louise's  new  title,  Sir  William  Dugdale 
mentions  that  "  she  was  of  such  honourable  women 
as  His  Majesty  has  deservedly  raised  to  high  titles  of 
honour''''  ;  just  as  he  said  Barbara  was  made  Duchess 
of  Cleveland  "  by  reason  of  her  father's  death  in  His 
Majesty's  army,  as  also  for  her  own  perso?ial  virtues.'''' 
He  also  remarked  of  Lee,  Earl  of  Lichfield,  that  some 
without  service  had  been  "  advanced  to  eminent 
titles  ...  as  an  encouragement  to  them  all  in 
virtuous  endeavours.''^  The  gentleman  had  married 
one  of  Barbara's  daughters  ! 

As  Charles  had  done  so  much  for  the  French  girl, 
he  seemed  to  think  it  was  Louis'  turn  to  give  her 
something,  so  in  1674,  when  the  lady  was  ill  and 
required  a  quiet  life,  Charles  thought  to  cheer  her 
by  asking  his  brother  of  France  to  bestow  upon  her 
the  fief  of  Aubigny,  which  had  reverted  to  the  French 
King  on  the  death  of  Richmond,  the  husband  of 
La  Belle  Stuart.  When  one  considers  it,  it  was  not 
an  extravagant  petition,  for  Louise  was  working  for 
her  own  monarch's  schemes  and  he  owed  her  some 
recompense.  Charles,  however,  added  to  his  request 
the  condition  that  the  fief  should  descend  in  succes- 
sion to  such  natural  son  of  his  and  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  as  he  might  designate.  The  difficulty 
about  the  whole  thing  was  that  the  title  of  Duchess 
of  Aubigny  carried  with  it  the  privilege  of  a  tabouret 
at  the  French  Court,  one  of  the  most  desired  honours 
Q 


242    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

among  French  women,  giving  as  it  did  to  its  owner 
the  permission  to  remain  seated  in  the  King's  or 
Queen's  presence.  Louis  could  not  easily  put  up 
with  this,  for  quite  apart  from  her  English  rank  and 
questionable  position,  she  had  been  distinctly  a  person 
of  no  social  importance  in  her  own  country,  so  he 
conferred  the  estate  but  withheld  the  title,  and  it  is 
said  that  Louise  thought  Buckingham  responsible  for 
this  failure  and  worked  against  him  ever  after. 

Lady  Portsmouth  was  living  just  the  life  that  would 
gain  her  enemies,  and  among  them  was  one  whom 
she  scorned  too  much  to  notice  at  the  beginning,  but 
whom  she  found  to  be  impervious  to  spite  or  disdain, 
and  this  was  Nell  Gwyn,  a  woman  who  was  full  of 
kindness,  laughter,  and  wit,  but  who  was  too  un- 
tutored and  too  uneducated  to  be  anything  but 
vulgar.  Her  gay  heart  kept  Charles's  affection,  and 
though  she  never  received  honours  or  vast  estates,  she 
had  enough  money  from  him  to  live  in  luxury  and  to 
compete  in  all  external  ways  with  the  two  better- 
born  dames.  She  did  not  dismay  Charles  with  her 
temper,  nor  trouble  him  with  politics,  and  she  was 
more  faithful  than  any,  for  even  of  Louise  scandal 
had  its  story  to  tell,  connecting  her  name  with  that 
of  the  Grand  Prior  of  France,  brother  to  the  Duke 
of  Vendome.  This  man  is  said  to  have  had  a  real 
passion  for  the  Duchess,  difficult  as  it  is  to  believe 
that  any  of  them  could  feel  real  emotion  or  sentiment ; 
and  he  refused  to  take  any  hints  or  to  obey  any  com- 
mands to  absent  himself  from  Louise's  apartments. 
At  last  it  is  said  that  Charles  definitely  commanded 
him  to  quit,  not  only  the  house,  but  England  itself, 
and  means  were  taken  to  land  the  French  gentleman 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     243 

on  his  own  shores.  Then,  as  though  defiantly  to  prove 
his  right,  Charles  was  seen  caressing  the  lady  publicly. 
But  of  Nell  no  such  story  was  ever  told  ;  she  openly 
said  that  since  the  King  had  shown  her  affection  she 
had  been  true  to  him.  Her  great  generosity  and  the 
knowledge  that  she  sprang  from  the  people  made  her 
a  popular  figure,  while  Louise  was  hated  more  bitterly 
with  every  year  that  passed.  Various  stories  were 
told  of  Nell  Gwyn's  birth,  some  trying  to  prove  that 
she  belonged  to  a  respectable  middle-class  family,  and 
being  stage-struck,  sold  oranges  as  a  means  of  getting 
her  foot  upon  the  dramatic  ladder.  But  the  fact 
seems  to  be  that  she  was  born  in  a  garret  or  a  cellar, 
it  is  immaterial  which,  in  some  yard  in  the  lowest  part 
of  the  city.  What  sort  of  life  surrounded  her  child- 
hood it  is  easy  to  imagine  ;  as  a  young  girl  she  sold 
oranges  about  and  in  the  theatre,  where  her  nimble 
tongue  and  pretty  face  soon  made  her  a  welcome 
visitor.  Lacy  the  comedian  was  said  to  be  her  first 
lover  ;  he  was  succeeded  by  Charles  Hart,  the  great- 
nephew  of  Shakespeare,  and  one  of  the  temporary 
gallants  of  Barbara  Palmer.  Charles,  Lord  Buckhurst, 
afterwards  Lord  Dorset,  kept  house  with  her  at  Epsom, 
and  later  she  attracted  the  King's  attention.  He  was, 
she  said,  her  Charles  HI,  even  though  he  was  Charles  II 
to  his  people.  The  story  goes  that  she  was  reciting 
a  prologue  to  the  audience  in  a  hat  as  large  as  a  cart- 
wheel, as  a  method  of  burlesquing  another  actress, 
and  her  little  figure  hidden  in  so  absurd  a  way  amused 
Charles  so  much  that  he  invited  her  to  sup  with  him. 
When  she  first  came  to  Charles  we  are  told  she  asked 
^500  a  year,  which  was  refused,  but  later,  after  she 
had  become  the  mother  of  a  son,  tens  of  thousands 


244    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

were  bestowed  upon  her,  with  a  house  in  St.  James's 
and  the  power  of  commanding  any  luxury  she  desired. 
The  fact  about  her  which  seems  most  to  have  im- 
pressed popular  fancy  is  that  the  walls  and  ceiling 
of  one  of  her  rooms  were  covered  with  mirrors,  and 
there  is  that  story  which,  true  or  not,  will  always  be 
linked  with  her  name.  "  Come  hither,  you  little 
bastard,  and  speak  to  your  father,"  she  cried  to  her 
boy  one  day.  "  Nay,  Nelly,  do  not  give  the  child 
such  a  name,"  remonstrated  Charles.  To  which  she 
answered,  "  Your  Majesty  has  given  me  no  other 
name  by  which  I  may  call  him."  It  is  said  that  upon 
this  Charles  gave  him  the  name  of  Beauclerc,  and 
made  him  Earl  of  Burford  ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact 
he  was  created  Baron  Heddington  and  Earl  of  Bur- 
ford  the  very  year  he  was  born. 

Nell  had  a  lodging  at  Whitehall  as  one  of  the  ladies 
of  the  Queen's  privy  chamber,  a  post  to  which  she 
had  never  aspired,  but  which  was  given  her  as  a  means 
of  keeping  her  near  the  King ;  but  we  never  hear  that 
she  obtruded  in  the  Queen's  presence  or  made  herself 
anything  but  amiable,  excepting  to  her  rivals,  and 
to  them  her  plain  outspokenness  was  a  sore  punish- 
ment. Madame  de  Sevigne,  who  kept  an  interested 
eye  upon  social  life  in  England,  gave  a  refreshing 
account  in  a  letter  of  Nell's  pretty  way  with  Lady 
Portsmouth,  a  way  which  must  have  much  exasper- 
ated that  lady.    She  wrote  : 

"  Keroualle  has  been  mistaken  in  nothing.  She 
desired  to  be  the  King's  mistress ;  she  has  that  posi- 
tion ;  he  shares  her  couch  in  the  eyes  of  all  his  Court. 
She  has  a  son  who  has  just  been  recognized,  and  on 
whom  has  been  conferred  two  duchies.     She  amasses 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     245 

riches  and  makes  herself  Hked  and  respected  by  those 
whom  she  desires,  but  she  did  not  foresee  that  she 
would  find  in  her  way  a  young  comedian,  by  whom 
the  King  is  fascinated.  She  has  not  the  power  to 
detach  him  from  her  for  an  instant.  He  divides  his 
thoughts,  his  time,  and  his  wealth  between  the  two. 
The  comedian  is  as  proud  as  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth ;  she  defies  her,  makes  grimaces  at  her,  attacks 
her,  and  often  steals  the  King  from  her,  boasting  of 
his  preference.  She  is  young,  pretty,  impudent, 
debauched,  and  pleasant ;  she  sings,  she  dances,  and 
follows  love  frankly  ;  she  has  a  son  whom  she  wishes 
to  be  recognized.  This  is  how  she  reasons.  '  That 
young  woman,'  says  she,  '  is  a  person  of  quality.  She 
says  that  all  the  great  people  of  France  are  related 
to  her.  If  some  one  of  rank  dies  she  puts  on  mourn- 
ing. Ah,  well !  since  she  is  of  such  high  quality, 
why  is  she  of  bad  character  ?  She  ought  to  die  with 
shame.  As  for  me,  it  is  my  trade  ;  I  pride  myself 
on  nothing  else.  The  King  keeps  me,  I  am  faithful 
to  him  ;  my  son  is  his ;  I  contend  that  he  ought  to 
be  recognized  and  he  will  recognize  him,  for  he  loves 
me  as  much  as  Portsmouth.'  "  To  this  Madame 
Sevigne  adds :  "  This  creature  takes  the  upper  hand, 
and  discountenances  and  embarrasses  the  Duchess  to 
an  extraordinary  degree." 

Even  at  this  distance  of  time  one  comprehends 
sympathetically  the  liking  for  the  open-hearted, 
straight  Englishwoman,  and  the  prejudice  against  the 
crafty  Frenchwoman  who  had  come  into  the  country 
to  make  its  King  betray  its  best  interests,  and  who 
while  doing  so  was  diverting  into  her  own  pockets 
money  raised  by  taxes  from  the  community. 


246    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Nell  Gwyn  is  credited  with  initiating  the  building 
of  the  Chelsea  Hospital,  and  o£  urging  forward  its 
completion.  The  story  runs  that  one  day,  when  driving 
in  her  luxurious  coach,  a  poor  man  asked  for  charity, 
saying  that  he  was  an  old  soldier,  had  fought  for  the 
Stuarts  through  the  Civil  War,  and  that  wounded, 
old,  and  disabled  he  was  starving  in  the  streets.  This 
so  affected  Nell  that  she  went  to  the  King  hot  with 
the  pathetic  incident,  and  thus  the  idea  of  the  hospital 
arose.  There  is  that  other  story  of  Nell  in  her  coach 
which  is  not  quite  so  pleasant  to  tell,  though  its 
humour  causes  it  to  live.  She  drove  through  low 
quarters,  and  the  people,  believing  her  to  be  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  surrounded  her  with  angry 
shouts.  Coaches  were  closed-up  vehicles  in  those 
days,  for  the  glass  carriage  had  not  taken  among 
English  ladies ;  so  Nell,  hearing  the  cries,  opened 
her  door  wide  and,  standing  on  the  step,  called,  "  Never 
mind,  good  people,  I  am  the  English  mistress  !  "  Her 
charming  smile  and  her  frankness  would  alone  have 
won  the  mob,  but  she  was  their  Nell  as  well  as  the 
King's,  and  they  shouted  now  with  delight. 

Nell  had  been  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  Lady  Castle- 
maine,  and  she  gaily  sought  to  fill  the  same  ofhce 
with  Louise  de  Keroualle,  sometimes  trying  to  in- 
fluence the  King  by  her  common  sense  in  a  direct 
way  not  always  possible  to  Louise.  On  one  occasion 
he  went  to  her  apartments  depressed  and  angry  from 
some  contention  with  his  councillors,  asking  what 
he  could  do  to  please  the  people.  "  I  am  torn  by 
their  clamours." 

"  There  is  one  way  left  to  you,  and  that  I  fear 
you  will  not  take,"  answered  the  ready  Nell ;  "  send 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     247 

your  mistresses  packing,  and  attend  to  your  business." 
Needless  to  say  Charles  did  not  take  this  advice. 

Apart  from  the  constant  irritation  produced  by 
so  open  a  rival  as  Nell,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
had  other  trials  which  did  not  tend  to  her  happiness. 
She  was  bent  on  making  Charles  own  to  being  a 
Roman  Catholic,  with  the  result  that  after  working 
to  this  end  for  nearly  fifteen  years  she  succeeded  only 
partially  when  he  was  on  his  death-bed.  In  1674  ^^^ 
whole  secret  league  between  Charles  and  Louis  was 
nearly  broken  through  a  furore  of  hatred  against  the 
French  among  the  English  people,  who  had  expended 
themselves  against  Popery  by  forcing  on  the  resignation 
of  the  Duke  of  York  and  the  Treasurer  Clifford  ;  then 
Lady  Portsmouth  fell  ill  and  had  to  leave  her  Royal 
master  to  the  seductions  of  any  pretty  woman  in  his 
proximity.  Charles  was  thoughtful  for  her  in  this 
illness,  placing  her  under  his  own  physician  at  Windsor, 
and  arranging  that  her  sister,  to  whom  he  gave  a 
pension  of  ;^6oo  a  year,  should  come  to  her.  This  girl 
was  married  soon  to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  an  even 
more  morally  disagreeable  companion  than  the  King. 

It  must  have  been  rather  embarrassing  for  Charles 
to  be  constantly  confronted  with  a  new  son,  whose 
mother  eagerly  demanded  this  or  that  title  with  which 
to  decorate  the  nameless  infant.  His  people  watched 
his  troubles  on  this  account,  some  with  stern  disap- 
proval, some  with  c|uiet  amusement,  and  some  with 
open  derision.  There  is  more  than  one  incident  on 
record  when  popular  feeling  was  demonstrated  in 
action,  such  as  when,  in  November,  1675,  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth  being  ill,  a  pillion  was  fastened  on  the 
back  of  the  horse  bearing  the  statue  of  Charles  in 


248    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Stocks  Market,  while  a  placard  was  pasted  on  the 
breast  with  the  legend,  "  Haste,  post  haste,  for  a 
midwife."  The  Stocks  Market  occupied  the  position 
now  held  by  the  Mansion  House.  Up  to  the  time  of 
Edward  I  the  stocks  had  stood  there,  but  in  Charles 
IPs  reign  it  was  a  fruit  and  flower  market,  with  rows 
of  trees  on  the  east  side,  "  very  pleasant  to  the  in- 
habitants." A  great  equestrian  statue  had  been  put 
there  in  May,  1672,  a  statue  of  John  Sobieski,  the 
Polish  King,  which  had  been  purchased  by  Sir  Robert 
Viner,  alderman,  who  had  it  decapitated  and  a  head 
of  Charles  attached,  while  the  Turk  beneath  the 
horse's  feet  became  a  defeated  Cromwellian. 

But  to  return  to  these  infants.  There  was  Barbara 
with  her  three  boys  demanding  more  than  one  title 
apiece  :  the  second  son,  who  was  already  Earl  of 
Euston,  was  to  be  made  the  Duke  of  Grafton ;  Charles, 
the  eldest  son,  known  then  as  the  Earl  of  Southampton, 
was  to  be  created  Baron  of  Newbury,  Earl  of  Chiches- 
ter, and  Duke  of  Southampton;  the  third  son  had 
already  three  titles.  The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
having  secured  the  lands  in  France  which  had  be- 
longed to  Frances  Stuart's  husband,  now  wanted  his 
title  for  her  son,  and  Nell  was  hinting  that  her  boy 
had  not  a  sufficiency  of  handles  to  his  name.  The 
last  was  put  off  without  a  title,  but  with  an  income 
of  X4000.  The  titles  of  Grafton  and  Richmond 
and  Southampton  were  conferred  all  at  once,  which 
caused  a  race  for  precedence  between  the  two  mothers. 
This  precedence  depended  upon  which  patent  was 
first  signed  by  the  Lord  Treasurer,  and  Louise,  learn- 
ing that  that  functionary  was  going  to  Bath  the  next 
day,  sent  her  attorney  to  the  Treasurer  at  midnight 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     249 

and  secured  his  signature.  When  Barbara's  lawyer 
arrived  the  next  morning  it  was  only  to  learn  that 
the  great  man  had  started  on  his  journey.  Louise  was 
further  gratified  by  the  King's  bestowing  upon  her  an 
annuity  of  ^/^i 0,000,  which  was  to  be  paid  out  of 
the  wine  licences.  But  at  the  end  of  1675  she  had  to 
face  the  arrival  of  the  notorious  Hortense,  Duchess 
Mazarin,  who  was  known  as  the  most  beautiful  woman 
in  Europe  and  who  was  famed  for  the  eccentricity 
of  her  life. 

When  in  exile  Charles  had  asked  Hortense  in  marriage 
of  Mazarin,  but  the  great  Cardinal  was  too  short- 
sighted to  see  coming  events,  and  refused  the  honour 
for  his  niece.  In  the  first  year  of  Charles's  reign  it 
was  the  uncle  who  offered  his  niece  in  marriage  to 
the  King,  which  offer  was  refused,  as  was  the  first. 
Almost  at  once  Hortense  married  the  Duke  of  Mayenne 
on  condition  that  he  should  take  the  name  of  Mazarin. 
He  developed  into  a  religious  enthusiast,  and  made 
his  wife's  life  a  burden  by  awaking  her  at  night  to 
listen  to  inaudible  "  voices "  and  see  invisible  "  visions," 
dragging  her  about  the  country  from  one  estate  to 
another  and  torturing  her  with  his  jealousy.  He  was 
such  a  misguided  bigot  that  he  refused  to  let  the 
women  on  his  estates  milk  cows  for  fear  of  raising 
evil  thoughts,  and  he  wanted  to  pull  out  the  front 
teeth  of  his  little  girls  that  he  might  destroy  all  chance 
of  vanity.  At  last,  after  there  were  four  children 
of  the  union,  he  thought  fit  to  immure  his  beautiful 
young  wife  in  a  convent,  which  was  a  sort  of  glorified 
Magdalene  home,  and  from  which  the  Duchess 
escaped  as  soon  as  possible.  She  instituted  a  suit 
against  her  husband  for  a  legal  separation,  and  then, 


250    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

fearing  that  it  would  not  be  successful,  left  Paris  in 
the  dress  of  a  cavalier,  attended  by  her  maid,  also 
in  man's  clothing,  and  by  two  gallants.  Madame  de 
Sevigne  says  that  she  returned  to  Paris  and  was  again 
confined,  this  time  in  the  abbey  of  Lys,  but  that  the 
King  who  had  been  her  playmate  in  childhood  sent 
a  constable  with  eight  dragoons  to  break  down  the 
door  and  set  her  at  liberty.  Hortense  then  spent 
three  years  in  Savoy  with  another  gallant,  after- 
wards coming  to  England,  glowing  with  health  and 
beauty,  where  she  was  received  with  open  arms  by 
all  those  who  longed  to  see  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
discomfited.  Charles,  at  once  attracted  by  her  vitality 
and  her  magnificent  appearance,  gave  her  apartments 
in  St.  James's  Palace  and  a  pension  of  ^^4000  a  year. 

Louise  was  expecting  another  child,  and  both  was 
and  looked  ill,  for  she  was  one  of  those  whose  beauty 
is  killed  by  anxiety.  Nell  Gwyn  wickedly  put  on  deep 
mourning  for  the  poor  Duchess  and  her  dead  hopes, 
Lady  Castlemaine  went  into  the  country,  and  in  rage 
and  despair  Louise  hastened  to  Bath,  the  new  resort, 
hoping  to  regain  her  good  looks. 

On  her  return  she  found  that  she  had  lost  Charles  ; 
he  was  kind  and  friendly,  but  they  only  met  when 
other  people  were  present.  For  a  time  she  brooded 
and  wept  ;  then,  acting  on  the  advice  of  the  French 
ambassador,  who  knew  that  her  failure  with  Charles 
would  ruin  his  master's  plans,  she  dried  her  eyes, 
appeared  again  in  public,  played  the  gracious  hostess, 
and  mixed  with  the  Court.  But  before  1677  dawned 
her  power  seemed  to  have  vanished  entirely.  Nell 
Gwyn,  who  never  really  lost  her  hold  on  the  King, 
was  still  in  his  favour  and  still  made  the  Duchess  of 


LOUISE    RENEE   DE    KEROUALLE     251 

Portsmouth  the  target  for  her  raillery.  Charles 
visited  the  Duchess  Mazarin  daily.  He  is  said  to  have 
regularly  allowed  himself  to  be  put  to  bed  at  White- 
hall, and  as  soon  as  his  gentlemen  and  valets  departed 
to  have  got  up,  dressed,  and  stolen  off  to  St.  James's 
Palace,  to  spend  some  hours  with  the  high-spirited 
Frenchwoman  ;  but  he  went  to  see  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  only  when  he  knew  that  other  people 
would  be  there.  It  may  have  been  in  some  vain 
attempt  to  regain  her  influence  that  Louise  went 
demurely  to  service  in  the  King's  chapel,  and  pre- 
tended to  turn  Protestant ;  but  this  had  no  effect  on 
Charles  and  did  not  deceive  any  one  else. 

Monsieur  Forneron  gives  us  many  stories  which 
he  gathered  from  the  letters  sent  by  Courtin,  the 
ambassador,  to  Louis  XIV,  showing  how  keen  was  the 
interest  taken  in  France  in  the  scandalous  doings  at 
the  English  Court.  One  tells  us  how  a  reconciliation 
was  effected  among  the  various  ladies.  Courtin  was 
paying  a  call  upon  the  Duchess  Mazarin  when  Louise 
de  Keroualle  entered  on  a  visit  of  ceremony,  and 
almost  immediately  came  Lady  Harvey,  sister  to 
Ralph  Montagu,  who  hated  Louise  "  worse  than  any 
other  woman  in  England."  She  brought  with  her 
Nell  Gwyn,  who  wished  to  thank  Hortense  for  her 
polite  compliments  on  the  recognition  of  her  son. 
And  these  three  sworn  enemies  met,  talked  with 
amusing  gaiety,  and  showed  every  civility  to  each 
other  ;  but  when  Louise  had  gone  Nelly  asked  the 
ambassador  why  King  Louis  did  not  send  her  presents 
instead  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  as  she  served 
the  King  of  England  far  the  better  of  the  two,  and 
he  loved  her  far  more  than  he  did  her  rival. 


252    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

On  another  occasion  Courtin  was  seated  at  the 
theatre  near  Madame  Harvey  and  Mrs.  Middleton, 
and  they  told  him  laughingly  that  they  should  come 
to  supper  with  him  one  evening  and  each  bring  a 
friend.  He  expressed  his  pleasure  and  the  matter 
was  arranged.  The  next  day  Mrs.  Middleton  invited 
Louise,  and  Lady  Harvey,  who  was  for  the  moment 
enamoured  with  Madame  Mazarin,  invited  her.  To 
these  was  added  a  Mrs.  Beauclerc.  It  was  a  curious 
meeting.  Mrs.  Beauclerc  had  once  been  very  inti- 
mate with  Lady  Harvey,  but  now  hated  her  ;  Lady 
Harvey  hated  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  and  the 
friendship  between  the  latter  and  the  Duchess 
Mazarin  was  of  the  iciest.  Yet  the  ambassador  was 
clever  enough  to  keep  them  all  amused  and  gay,  and 
after  supper  he  openly  shut  up  together  two  or  three 
times  the  two  worse  enemies,  telling  them  to  get 
reconciled.  At  the  end  Madame  Mazarin  and  Madame 
Portsmouth  came  out  hand  in  hand,  dancing  and 
jumping  down  the  stairs. 

This  reconciliation  seems  not  to  have  been  just  a 
thing  of  the  moment,  for  it  lasted,  and  the  Court 
circle  was  astonished  one  day  at  seeing  the  Duchess 
Mazarin  in  the  coach  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth. 
Evidently  the  latter  was  tired  of  the  struggle ;  time 
and  pertinacity  had  worn  down  her  resentment  against 
Nell  Gwyn,  and  now  she  accepted  Hortense  as  an 
indisputable  fact,  and  was  determined  to  make  the 
best  of  it. 

As  for  the  international  politics  which  had  been  the 
cause  of  Louise  de  Keroualle's  coming  to  England, 
they  had  resolved  themselves  into  something  like  a 
duel  of  wits  between  Louis  and  William  of  Orange; 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     253 

Charles  was  bound  to  Louis,  but  the  people  of  Eng- 
land were  ready  to  spend  their  last  penny  in  upholding 
William,  and  the  Protestant  prince  had  been  working 
quietly  among  the  great  heads  of  European  affairs  to 
form  a  coalition  against  France.  His  last  couf  was 
to  come  to  England  and  beg  the  hand  of  Mary,  the 
King's  niece,  in  marriage.  Charles  raged  in  private, 
but  the  people  shouted  with  delight  in  the  streets. 
Charles,  James,  Louise,  and  Barillon,  the  new  French 
ambassador,  were  all  powerless :  their  resistance  would 
have  been  useless  against  a  man  who  had  suddenly 
taken  the  tide  of  enthusiasm  at  the  flood.  The 
marriage  took  place,  and  every  one,  excepting  perhaps 
Princess  Mary,  behaved  as  though  it  were  the  most 
fortunate  thing  in  the  world. 

The  way  in  which  Louise  regained  her  ascendancy 
over  Charles  is  told  with  amusing  reticence  by  M. 
Forneron.  As  soon  as  the  marriage  ceremony  was 
over  and  the  newly  wedded  couple  had  left  England 
Louise  was  taken  seriously  ill ;  no  one  quite  knew 
what  was  the  matter,  but  she  took  to  her  bed,  and 
every  one  believed  that  her  life  was  in  danger.  Charles, 
always  touched  by  the  suffering  of  his  womenkind, 
came  constantly  to  see  her  and  gave  audience  to 
Barillon  in  her  room  ;  but  Louise  grew  worse  and 
worse,  and  in  a  faint  voice  with  crucifix  in  hand  would 
beg  the  King  to  forsake  his  mistresses  for  his  soul's 
good.  Truly  at  one  moment  she  seemed  at  the  last 
extremity,  yet  three  or  four  days  later,  feeling  a  little 
better,  she  dragged  herself  out  of  bed,  had  herself 
properly  dressed,  and  went  to  the  theatre,  where  the 
King  was  witnessing  a  play  acted  by  a  company  of 
French  actors,  and  sitting  as  close  as  he  possibly  could 


254    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

to  Madame  Mazarin.  It  must  have  been  rather  a 
shock  when  his  dear,  white-faced,  thin-cheeked  Louise 
settled  herself  on  the  other  side  of  him  at  the  very- 
moment  in  which  he  was  probably  wondering  whether 
she  was  alive  or  dead. 

The  fact  was  that  through  some  means  Louise  had 
become  thoroughly  frightened  ;  she  had  been  forced 
to  realize  that  it  was  not  only  her  countrywoman  she 
had  to  fear,  but  several  Englishwomen  who  were 
poaching  on  her  preserves.  Mrs.  Middleton  was 
throwing  her  daughter  in  the  King's  path  ;  Carey 
Eraser,  a  new  beauty,  and  the  daughter  of  the  King's 
physician — with  other  Court  ladies — was  in  the  already 
noted  song  mentioned  as  an  aspirant  for  Louise's 
post ;  and  Sidonie  de  Courcelles,  an  old  friend  of 
Hortense,  came  too  often  to  England  and  to  the 
English  Court.  The  sudden  conviction  was  too  much 
for  Louise,  she  left  her  bed  of  slow  death,  grew  well, 
and  determined  to  play  the  game  out  to  the  end. 
This  heroic  resolve  was  followed  by  a  combination 
on  the  part  of  the  two  Duchesses  to  keep  off  new  and 
untried  aspirants  for  Royal  favour,  and  there  was  for 
a  time  a  little  peace  in  the  domestic  surroundings  of 
Charles. 

Though  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  now  held  a 
shared  position  she  gradually  secured  the  larger  share, 
and  to  the  end  of  the  King's  life  was  regarded  as  the 
one  woman  to  be  reckoned  with  about  Charles.  No 
one  else,  certainly  not  the  Queen,  had  at  Whitehall 
such  splendid  apartments,  furnished  with  such  ex- 
travagant luxury.  Evelyn  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that 
they  contained  ten  times  the  richness  and  glory  of 
poor    Catherine's.      This    must    have    been    partly 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     255 

Catherine's  fault  in  not  demanding  more  than  she 
did,  for  Charles  was  more  ready  to  give  than  to 
refuse  gifts ;  it  was  also  partly  due  to  the  fact  that 
Charles  knew  that  his  wife  was  a  fixture,  while  Louise 
could  run  away  if  he  offended  her  ;  and  as  she  drew 
from  him  a  more  lasting  affection  than  had  any  other 
woman  he  lavished  the  most  absurdly  costly  articles 
upon  her.  Two  or  three  times  he  had  the  rooms 
pulled  down  and  rebuilt  and  the  whole  furniture  re- 
newed to  satisfy  her  demands.  When  Evelyn  followed 
the  King  one  morning,  not  only  into  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth's  bedroom,  but  through  it  into  her  dressing- 
room  beyond,  "  where  she  was  in  her  morning  loose 
garment,  her  maids  combing  her,  newly  out  of  her  bed, 
His  Majesty  and  the  gallants  standing  about  her," 
he  saw  a  wonderful  collection  'of  tapestry,  "  for 
design,  tenderness  of  work,  and  incomparable  imita- 
tions of  the  best  paintings  beyond  anything  I  had 
ever  beheld."  There  were  also  Japanese  cabinets, 
screens,  pendule  clocks,  great  vases  of  wrought  plate, 
tables,  stands,  chimney  furniture,  sconces,  branches, 
braseras,  all  of  massive  silver,  besides  some  of  Her 
Majesty^s  best  'paintings.  There  is  still  shown  at 
Windsor  Castle  a  heavy  table  of  silver  which  once 
belonged  to  Charles  IL  Who  knows  that  its  actual 
owner  was  not  Louise  de  Keroualle  ? 

The  parents  of  Louise  were  not  so  shocked  at  her 
position  as  some  parents  would  be,  for  they  visited 
England  in  1675,  going  to  stay,  not  with  either  of 
their  daughters,  but  with  Sir  Richard  Browne,  who 
had  lived  at  Brest  before  the  Restoration,  guarding 
Charles's  interest  over  sea  affairs.  This  was  near  the 
home  of  the  Keroualles,  and  that  family  had  shown 


256    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Sir  Richard  much  kindness,  which  he  returned  by- 
inviting  them  to  England.  He  took  them  to  see 
Evelyn,  who  said  of  the  father  that  he  was  a  soldierly 
person  and  a  good  fellow,  as  the  Bretons  generally 
are  ;  of  the  lady  he  pronounced  that  she  had  been 
very  handsome  and  seemed  a  shrewd  understanding 
woman  ;  and  they  all  appear  to  have  had  a  discussion 
upon  that  ever  fertile  subject  between  those  of 
different  nations,  language,  Evelyn  finding  that  several 
words  of  the  Breton  language  were  the  same  as  those 
in  the  Welsh.  From  Forneron  we  learn  that  they 
held  the  title  of  Count  and  Countess,  and  it  was 
said  that  they  derived  no  profit  from  the  situation 
or  the  wealth  of  either  of  their  daughters. 

Of  all  the  women  who  amassed  money  from  the 
irregularity  of  their  lives  there  was  none  who 
equalled  Louise  ;  she  was  absolutely  insatiable.  She 
managed  to  increase  her  pension  from  an  annual 
^12,000  to  ^40,000,  and  in  one  year  drew  no 
less,  by  different  methods,  from  the  Treasury  than 
jf  1 36,668.  She  trafficked  in  convicts,  selling  Royal 
pardons  to  those  who  were  rich,  and  selling  the  poor 
men  to  West  India  planters,  and  had  many  other 
secret  ways  of  getting  money.  It  was  said  that  she 
invested  it  in  France,  having  always  in  her  mind  that 
it  would  one  day  probably  be  necessary  for  her  to  fly 
there  for  safety,  but  her  subsequent  history  scarcely 
bears  this  out.  She  certainly  spent  money  lavishly 
on  clothes  and  entertaining,  while  she  simply  threw 
it  away  at  the  gaming-table. 

One  example  of  the  way  in  which  she  entertained 
is  given  us  by  Evelyn,  who  received  an  invitation  to 
dine  in  what  he  called  "  her  glorious  apartments  at 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     257 

Whitehall  "  on  the  evening  that  the  Morocco  am- 
bassador and  his  train  were  being  entertained  there. 
It  is  worthy  of  note  that  it  was  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth and  not  the  Queen  who  asked  the  foreign 
visitors  to  dinner.  The  thing  which  really  surprised 
Mr.  Evelyn  was  the  extraordinary  moderation  and 
modesty  with  which  the  guests  behaved.  They  were 
all  placed  about  a  long  table,  a  lady  between  two 
Moors,  amongst  them  being  the  King's  natural 
daughters,  Lady  Lichfield  and  Lady  Sussex  ;  as  well 
as  Lady  Portsmouth — "  Nelly,  etc.,  concubines  and 
cattle  of  that  sort,  as  splendid  as  jewels  and  excess  of 
bravery  could  make  them  ;  the  Moors  neither  ad- 
miring nor  seeming  to  regard  anything,  furniture  or 
the  like,  with  any  earnestness,  and  but  decently 
touching  the  banquet."  At  the  end  they  gravely 
took  leave,  hoping  that  God  would  bless  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth  and  the  Prince,  meaning  the  little 
Duke  of  Richmond. 

During  the  remarkable  Titus  Oates  conspiracy  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Louise  was  frightened 
to  distraction.  All  Catholics,  even  the  Queen,  were 
in  danger.  Titus  Oates  accused  Her  Majesty  of  con- 
spiring to  murder  Charles,  and  the  House  of  Commons 
passed  a  resolution  asking  the  peers  to  join  them  in 
an  address  to  the  King  for  the  removal  of  the  Queen 
and  all  papists  from  his  person.  The  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  had  been  brought  up  in  a  better  school 
than  had  Barbara  Palmer,  for  she  had  always  been 
respectful  to  Catherine,  who  now  turned  to  her  for 
support  in  events  which  terrified  them  both.  Louise 
thought  of  retiring  to  France,  an  idea  which  was 
strengthened    when    the    Parliament    demanded    the 


258    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

removal  of  herself  and  Lord  Sunderland,  proposing 
to  execute  them  both  with  other  Catholics. 

The  Duke  of  York  left  England,  and  Louise  felt 
that  she  stood  utterly  alone,  for  she  knew  Charles 
well  enough  to  believe  that  he  would  leave  her  to 
her  fate  to  save  his  head,  his  throne,  or  even  his  pocket. 
However,  she  waited  upon  events  and  things  quieted 
down  so  that  there  seemed  a  breathing  space,  and 
Charles  turned  to  her  for  help  in  putting  himself 
right  with  Louis,  who  was  incensed  at  the  marriage 
of  Mary  with  William  of  Orange,  and  who  considered 
that  he  was  paying  his  money  into  England  without 
getting  proper  support  in  return. 

In  1680  Louise  was  attacked  in  what  was  known 
as  the  Prentices'  Plot,  by  which  some  apprentices 
took  their  oaths  before  the  mayor  that  there  was  a 
plot  to  take  out  of  the  Tower  Lords  Powis,  Stafford, 
Arundel,  and  Belasyse  and  burn  them  with  the 
Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  England  had,  in  fact,  lost 
its  head  on  the  subject  of  Popery,  for  James  had 
betrayed  his  true  temper  in  Scotland,  and  it  was  a 
certain  thing  that  Charles  would  give  no  legitimate 
heir  to  the  succession,  therefore  people  looked  for- 
ward with  dread  to  the  prospect  of  having  James  as 
king,  or  of  being  ruled  by  France. 

Thus  it  was  that  Lady  Portsmouth  was  blamed  for 
whatever  happened.  Barillon,  the  French  ambassador, 
said  that  James  was  ready  to  sacrifice  her  to  the  hatred 
of  the  people,  while  she  was  quite  ready  to  save  her- 
self at  his  expense.  All  through  Lady  Sunderland's 
letters  to  Henry  Sidney  we  find  her  speaking  of  the 
woman  whom  she  was  so  glad  to  befriend  ten  or  fifteen 
years   earlier   as   "  that  jade,"   "  that    jade    such   as 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     259 

never  was,"  "  so  damned  a  jade,"  and  betraying  a 
really  wonderful  hatred  of  her,  and  this  because 
Louise  was  making  use  of  the  Earl  of  Sunderland  as 
a  buffer.  Always  hoping  for  a  cessation  of  the  public 
ferocity,  Louise  stayed  on  and  took  as  her  course  a 
warm  partisanship  of  the  Prince  of  Orange.  But  she 
went  farther  than  this.  When  the  whole  nation  was 
in  a  ferment  over  the  Exclusion  Bill  she  begged  the 
King  to  give  way  and  not  to  ruin  himself  by  not 
acceding  to  the  desire  to  exclude  the  Duke  of  York 
from  the  succession,  and  she  openly  declared  herself 
on  the  side  of  the  Commons,  who  quickly  passed  the 
Bill  through  its  three  readings.  She  was  urged  to 
this  by  the  idea  that  it  would  be  possible  to  get  the 
King  to  name  her  son  as  his  successor,  and  had  already 
made  her  plans  for  effecting  a  match  between  him 
and  the  King  of  France's  natural  daughter,  later  the 
Duchess  of  Bourbon.  The  curious  thing  was  that 
the  Duke  of  York  did  not  resent  this,  because  the 
King  told  him  that  her  supposed  support  of  the 
Exclusion  party  was  an  arranged  thing,  so  that  she 
might  have  credit  with  that  party  and  find  out  their 
designs.  The  Bill  was  thrown  out  in  the  Lords,  and 
the  Commons  revenged  themselves  by  trying  and 
executing  Viscount  Stafford,  a  course  which  it  is  said 
was  urged  on  by  Louise.  French  intrigue  in  England 
was  at  this  time  of  so  involved  a  kind  that  neither 
Charles  nor  any  one  but  the  French  King  and  his 
minister  really  knew  why  any  one  either  supported 
or  opposed  anything,  the  fact  being  that  Louis  XIV's 
aim  was  simply  to  keep  England  so  occupied  with  her 
domestic  affairs  that  she  had  not  opportunity  to  see 
what  he  was  doing  in  Europe.    Thus  it  seemed  to  be 


26o    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON    COURT 

against  Louis's  interest  that  the  Exclusion  Bill  should 
pass,  yet  his  emissaries  supported  it ;  Louise  was  a 
Catholic,  yet  she  was  ready  to  aim  this  blow  at  her 
Church  ;  Sunderland,  though  disgraced  for  a  time 
for  supporting  the  Bill,  was  soon  restored  to  power 
by  the  compliant  King,  and  every  one  gaily,  though 
some  unconsciously,  played  the  game  of  France. 

From  the  King  downwards,  almost  all  men  of  con- 
sequence were  drawing  French  pensions  or  presents, 
though  Charles,  through  his  lack  of  enthusiasm  for 
the  Royal  intriguer  over  the  Channel,  was  being  kept 
very  short.  His  physical  strength  and  his  will  were 
disappearing  under  the  dissipated  sensual  life  he 
led,  and  the  only  thing  he  desired  was  to  idle  and 
lounge  at  ease,  and  let  any  who  would  do  the  work 
for  him.  Yet  he  seemed  to  be  living  in  the 
midst  of  dissensions  and  broils,  so  that  for  weari- 
ness' sake  he  at  last  fell  into  the  trap,  prorogued  his 
Parliament,  accepted  a  large  sum  of  money  with  a 
promise  of  more  from  Louis,  and  settled  down  to  a 
harmonious  existence  with  the  only  one  of  his  mis- 
tresses who  had  shown  interest  in  or  understanding  of 
current  events,  and  who  had  assisted  him  with  her 
counsel,  however  malevolent  that  had  been  for  his 
country.  For  the  first  time  since  the  advent  of  the 
Duchess  Mazarin  in  England  Louise  felt  a  real  confi- 
dence in  her  Royal  master,  and  she  used  this  oppor- 
tunity to  visit  France,  where  at  long  last  she  was 
allowed  the  privilege  of  the  tabouret — a  somewhat 
poor  privilege,  for  though  the  honour  conferred  the 
right  of  remaining  seated  in  the  presence  of  the  French 
Queen,  the  tabouret  itself  upon  which  she  sat  was 
an  uncomfortable  stool  with  neither  arms  nor  back. 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     261 

Louise  was  so  well  received  by  the  King  of  France 
that  she  made  a  Royal  progress  through  the  country. 
In  Paris  she  was  treated  with  all  honour  ;  one  day 
she  went  to  visit  the  Capuchin  friars,  and  they  turned 
out  in  procession  with  cross,  holy  water,  and  incense 
to  receive  her,  as  though  she  were  a  saint.  The  deep 
respect  shown  her  in  her  own  country  actually  affected 
all  classes  in  England,  so  that  when  she  returned  she 
found — what  she  had  never  before  been  allowed  to 
realize  in  her  adopted  country — that  she  was  a  person 
of  great  importance,  and  that  English  people  stood 
in  the  streets  to  gaze  upon — not,  as  usual,  to  curse — 
Madame  "  Carwell,"  or  "  Charwell,"  as  they  called 
her.  The  Queen  became  a  mere  nobody  com- 
pared with  her,  and  dire  punishment  fell  upon  any 
person  who  was  heard  to  question  her  character.  Yet 
Louise  was  rash  enough  to  play  with  her  position  by 
indulging  in  her  amorous  intrigue  with  the  Abbe 
Vendome,  the  Grand  Prior  of  France,  making  her 
French  allies  very  uncomfortable  and  giving  Charles 
some  jealous  moments.  However,  he  was  ordered  out 
of  the  kingdom,  and  the  King  grew  more,  rather  than 
less  devoted  to  his  mistress.  So  that  Louise  really 
thought  she  saw  the  hope  of  her  life  coming  to  its 
fulfilment.  She  gained  from  Louis  the  duchy  as  well 
as  the  estate  of  Aubigny,  with  reversion  to  her  son,  of 
whom  he  wrote  as  "  our  very  dear  and  well-beloved 
cousin.  Prince  Charles  Lennox,  Duke  of  Richmond," 
and  the  boy  and  his  mother  were  endowed  with  all 
the  privileges  and  liberties  of  French  nobility.  In 
matters  of  State  as  well  as  in  foreign  affairs  Louise,  not 
the  Queen,  was  consulted  ;  Rochester  and  Godolphin 
were  her  satellites  ;    Barillon  accepted  her  views  and 


262    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

her  advice.  She  was  in  effect  not  only  Queen  but 
King  o£  England,  and  she  bitterly  deplored  the  fact 
that  the  Exclusion  Bill  had  not  passed. 

Charles  at  fifty-two  was  an  old  man  ;  he  had  lived 
not  wisely  but  too  well,  and  his  energies  were  already 
dying.  It  may  be  that  the  Duchess  hoped  to  bend 
him  to  her  will ;  if  so,  she  would  probably  have  suc- 
ceeded, for  it  was  remarked  that  there  was  a  strange- 
ness and  coldness  between  Charles  and  his  brother 
James,  and  that  the  King  talked  of  sending  James  to 
Scotland,  upon  which  his  brother  answered  that  there 
was  no  need  ;  and  to  this  the  King  replied  that  one 
must  go,  either  the  Duke  or  himself.  The  Duke  of 
Monmouth  too  came  to  England  on  a  secret  visit, 
and  though  he  saw  only  Barillon  and  Louise  he  went 
away  again,  evidently  looking  forward  to  pleasant 
things.  Burnet  says  that  something  was  hatching  at 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  house,  though  no  one 
knew  what  ;  but  it  is  not  hard  to  guess  that  the 
succession  was  entirely  to  the  front  in  the  French- 
woman's mind.  She  was  astute  enough  to  see  that 
Charles  was  nearing  the  end  of  his  life,  and  she  had 
amassed  and  invested  in  France  great  sums  of  money  ; 
but  she  probably  thought  it  worth  while  to  try  for 
higher  game,  and  was  scheming  with  all  the  finesse  of 
which  she  was  capable. 

Evelyn  went  to  Court  on  Sunday  February  ist, 
1685,  the  day  before,  it  was  whispered,  the  King 
intended  going  through  the  Treasury  books,  dismissing 
Rochester — perhaps  to  the  Tower — and  making  various 
other  reforms.  Charles,  half  asleep,  was  in  his  chair 
toying  with  Madame  Mazarin,  Lady  Portsmouth,  and 
Lady  Cleveland,  who  was  again  living  in  England. 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     263 

Groups  of  innumerable  wax  candles  lighted  the  great 
hall,  in  one  part  of  which  about  twenty  people  were 
gathered  round  the  basset-tables,  with  at  least  two 
thousand  golden  pieces  before  them.  There  was  a 
ripple  of  laughter  and  talk,  with  the  occasional  fall 
of  a  coin,  while  Hortense's  French  page  struck  the 
strings  of  his  lute  and  sang  a  French  song  of  love  :  all 
was  light,  colour,  and  warmth  ;  not  at  all  the  scene 
which  staid  gentlemen  of  respectable  habits  desired 
to  see  on  the  Sabbath.  But  it  was  the  last  scene  of 
Charles's  Court  to  which  private  subjects  ever  had 
access.  The  licentious,  mad-cap,  luxurious,  and  irre- 
sponsible reign  was  over  ;  it  ended  for  the  world 
to  the  chirrup  of  a  love-song,  the  clinking  of  gold, 
and  the  lazy  love-making  of  a  moribund  Royal  lover 
to  three  mistresses  at  once.    Truly  a  fitting  end ! 

Charles  felt  out  of  sorts  that  night  and  went  to 
Louise's  apartments  for  a  basin  of  "  spoon  food." 
Of  this  he  ate  little,  went  to  bed,  and  passed  a  sleepless 
night.  When  he  rose  in  the  morning — he  was  never  a 
late  riser — his  physician,  who  had  been  ordered  to  be 
present,  could  not  understand  what  he  said,  and  when 
he  stood  up  he  almost  immediately  staggered  and 
fell  in  a  fit,  "  like  an  apoplexy."  He  was  bled  over 
and  over  again  and  tortured  according  to  the  custom 
of  those  times ;  a  hot  warming-pan  was  applied  to 
his  head,  and  some  disgusting  essence,  distilled  from 
putrid  human  skulls,  was  forced  into  his  mouth.  In 
spite  of  all  this  he  recovered  consciousness,  but  strange 
to  relate,  the  loss  of  so  much  blood  did  not  give  him 
strength  and  he  died  on  the  following  Friday. 

The  Queen  was  constantly  in  his  room,  and  her 
being  there  naturally  dislodged  the  Duchess  of  Ports- 


264    FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

mouth,  who  had  been  hanging  over  the  King's  bed 
until  then.  M.  Barillon  was  in  Whitehall  all  day 
during  the  Thursday.  He  retired  for  some  time  to 
the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's  apartments  and  found 
her  overwhelmed  with  grief,  the  physicians  having 
deprived  her  of  all  hope.  Yet  she  did  not  speak  of 
her  sorrow.  "  She  led  me  into  a  closet  and  said  to 
me  :  '  Monsieur  Ambassador,  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
one  of  the  greatest  secrets  in  the  world,  and  if  it  were 
known  it  would  deprive  me  of  my  head.  At  the  bottom 
of  his  heart  the  King  of  England  is  a  Catholic  ;  but 
he  is  surrounded  with  Protestant  Bishops,  and  nobody 
informs  him  of  his  situation  or  speaks  to  him  of  God. 
I  cannot  with  decency  again  enter  his  room  ;  besides, 
the  Queen  is  almost  always  there.  The  Duke  of  York 
is  busied  with  his  affairs,  and  these  are  too  important 
to  allow  him  to  take  that  care  which  he  ought  about 
the  conscience  of  the  King.  Go  and  tell  him  I  have 
conjured  you  to  advise  him  to  think  on  what  can 
be  done  to  save  the  King's  soul — he  is  master  of  the 
King's  room,  and  can  cause  to  withdraw  whoever  he 
pleases.  Lose  no  time,  for  if  there  be  the  least  hesita- 
tion it  will  be  too  late." 

Barillon  went  back  to  the  King's  room  and  whis- 
pered to  the  Duke  to  go  to  the  Queen's  apartment, 
for  she  had  fainted,  and  as  a  consequence  had  been 
bled  and  carried  to  her  own  room,  which  communi- 
cated with  the  King's  ante-room.  Barillon  followed 
him  and  there  told  him  what  the  Duchess  had  said  ; 
to  which  James  answered  :  "  You  are  right,  there  is 
no  time  to  lose.  I  will  sooner  hazard  everything  than 
not  do  my  duty  on  this  occasion." 

The  Duke  returned  later  saying  the  King  refused 


LOUISE    RENEE   DE   KEROUALLE     265 

to  take  the  sacraments  offered  him  by  the  Protestant 
Bishops,  who  would  remain  around  him.  They 
thought  of  various  ways  of  clearing  the  room.  Barillon 
was  to  pretend  to  give  a  private  message  from  Louis 
of  France  ;  the  Queen  was  to  be  brought  in  to  take 
a  last  farewell ;  at  length  it  was  decided  that  James 
should  whisper  quietly  to  his  brother  and  find  out 
his  wishes.  So  the  two  returned  to  the  King's  cham- 
ber, and  the  Duke,  forbidding  any  one  to  come  nigh, 
stooped  and  said  something  in  Charles's  ears,  to  which 
he  answered  aloud  : 

"  Yes,  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Shall  I  bring  a  priest  ?  " 

"  Do,  brother,  for  God's  sake  do,  and  lose  no  time. 
But  no,  you  will  get  into  trouble." 

"  If  it  costs  me  my  life,"  said  the  Duke,  "  I  will 
fetch  a  priest." 

A  Benedictine  monk,  named  John  Huddleston,  who 
had  saved  the  King's  life  after  the  battle  of  Worcester 
and  thus  was  a  privileged  person,  was  in  Whitehall,  and 
he  was  brought  in  readiness  up  that  back  stair  close 
to  the  bed-head  which  had  so  often  opened  to  admit 
the  votaries  of  the  heathen  goddess  of  love.  He  was 
quite  ready  again  to  serve  his  King  at  the  risk  of  his 
life,  and  though  too  ignorant  to  know  his  part  in  the 
ceremony,  he  was  quickly  tutored.  James  then  com- 
manded all  who  were  in  the  room  to  withdraw  ex- 
cepting the  Earl  of  Feversham  and  the  Earl  of  Bath, 
upon  whom  he  thought  he  could  rely,  and  the  doors 
being  closed,  Huddleston  entered.  The  whole  cere- 
mony occupied  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  and 
the  King  seemed  much  relieved  by  what  had  passed. 
His  natural  sons  were  brought  to  his  bedside  :  Grafton, 


266      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Southampton,  and  Northumberland,  sons  of  Barbara  ; 
St.  Albans,  the  surviving  of  Nell  Gwyn's  two  sons ; 
and  Richmond,  who  could  never  now  be  King  of 
England.  Monmouth  was  still  in  exile,  and  his  name 
did  not  pass  his  father's  lips,  in  spite  of  the  love 
Charles  had  shown  him.  Charles  blessed  all  the  young 
Dukes  who  surrounded  him  and  spoke  with  great 
affection  to  Richmond  ;  then  turning  to  James  he 
implored  him  to  see  after  the  Duchess  of  Richmond 
and  her  son.  "  And  do  not  let  poor  Nelly  starve  !  " 
he  added.  The  Queen  was  still  too  upset  to  return 
to  his  room,  but  sent  him  a  message  imploring  his 
pardon  for  any  offence  she  might  have  committed. 

"  She  asks  my  pardon,  poor  woman,"  said  Charles. 
"  I  ask  hers  with  all  my  heart." 

In  his  life  Charles  had  been  witty  and  courteous, 
and  in  his  death  he  was  the  same.  When  morning 
dawned  he  apologized  to  those  who  had  stood  round 
him  all  night,  saying,  "  I  have  been  a  most  uncon- 
scionable  time  dying,   but   I   hope  you  will  excuse 


me 


I  " 


The  popular  cry  of  poison  w-as  at  once  raised,  for 
Charles,  in  spite  of  all  his  faults,  was  much  loved 
by  his  people.  Bishop  Burnet  more  than  half  believed 
the  charge  to  be  true  and  tells  a  curious  story  which 
he  heard  in  November,  1709,  from  Mr.  Henley,  of 
Hampshire,  father  of  the  Lord  Keeper.  This  gentle- 
man saw  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  when  she  was  in 
England  in  1699,  and  she  told  him  that  "  she  was 
always  pressing  the  King  to  make  both  himself  and 
his  people  easy,  and  to  come  to  a  full  agreement  with 
his  Parliament,  and  he  was  come  to  a  final  resolu- 
tion of  sending  away  his  brother  and  calling  a  Parlia- 


LOUISE    RENEE   DE   KEROUALLE     267 

ment,  which  was  to  be  executed  the  next  day  after 
he  fell  into  that  fit  of  which  he  died.  She  was  put 
upon  the  secret,  and  spoke  of  it  to  no  person  alive, 
but  to  her  confessor  ;  but  the  confessor  she  believed 
told  it  to  some  who,  seeing  what  was  to  follow,  took 
that  wicked  course  to  prevent  it." 

As  soon  as  Charles  was  dead  Louise  fled  to  the 
house  of  the  French  ambassador,  and  an  hour  after 
James  was  proclaimed  he  sought  her  there  to  assure 
her  of  his  protection  and  friendship,  for  he  wished 
to  stand  sufficiently  well  with  King  Louis  as  to  share 
in  the  distribution  of  French  gold.  But  he  removed 
little  Richmond  from  the  post  of  Grand  Equerry, 
saying  that  it  was  too  onerous  a  post  for  a  lad  of 
thirteen  to  fill. 

Louise  knew  that  her  reign  now  was  ended,  she 
knew  also  that  she  was  so  much  hated  in  England 
that  when  Parliament  met  it  would  initiate  an  attack 
upon  her,  so  she  was  anxious  to  leave  England  as  soon 
as  possible  ;  but  she  had  been  forbidden  to  do  so 
until  she  had  paid  her  debts  :  thus  the  matter  of  money 
alone  remained  to  be  settled.  She  had  drawn  ^/^i  0,000 
in  gold  as  soon  as  Charles  was  dead,  she  secured  from 
James  an  estate  of  ^£5000,  and  held  an  income  of 
j/^2000  from  the  confiscated  estates  of  Earl  Grey 
until  her  son  came  of  age ;  besides  this,  she  had  her 
furniture  and  her  jewels  and  money  invested  in 
France.  James  promised  that  her  rooms  at  Whitehall 
should  be  kept  for  her  use  and  that  he  would  befriend 
her  and  her  son.  She  left  England  in  August,  1685, 
while  still  a  young  woman,  with  fifty  years  of  life 
before  her. 

These  fifty  years  were  spent   mostly  at  Aubigny, 


268      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

incurring  debt  and  getting  year  after  year  an  order 
from  the  King  to  stop  her  creditors  from  seizing  her 
effects.  Louis  seldom  forgot  the  aid  she  had  given 
him  and  was  always  ready  to  help  her  out  of  a  difficulty. 
That  he  was  called  upon  very  often  for  his  obliging 
assistance  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  when  the  Duchess's 
extravagance  is  considered.  In  17 14  she  went  to 
Paris  on  a  visit,  and  her  sheaf  of  bills  included  such 
unconsidered — and  probably  unpaid — trifles  as  ;^833 
for  stuff  for  liveries,  and  ^1860  for  furniture  and 
the  making  of  habits.  Louise's  son,  Charles,  a  true  son 
of  Charles  II,  deserted  her  as  soon  as  he  came  into  his 
own  income,  and  went  to  England.  He  died  in  1723, 
"  the  most  hideous  old  rake."  Under  William  III 
the  Duchess's  pension  was  withdrawn,  and  in  1691 
her  rooms  at  Whitehall  were  burned  down.  Evelyn 
speaks  of  the  latter  occurrence  with  his  usual  frank- 
ness. "  This  night  a  sudden  and  terrible  fire  burnt  down 
all  the  buildings  over  the  stone  gallery  at  Whitehall 
to  the  waterside,  beginning  at  the  apartments  of  the 
late  Duchess  of  Portsmouth  and  consuming  other 
lodgings  of  such  lewd  creatures,  who  debauched  both 
King  Charles  and  others,  and  were  his  destruction." 

A  year  after  she  left  England  Louise  came  back, 
and  it  is  said  that  either  Louis  had  some  suspicions 
about  the  motive  for  this  journey,  or  she  had  been 
talking  too  freely  of  Madame  de  Maintenon ;  in  any 
case  a  lettre  de  cachet  was  drawn  up  for  her  exile, 
but  through  the  good  office  of  Courtin  it  was  never 
signed,  and  from  that  time  Louis  continued  to  be 
her  friend.  In  later  years  she  often  came  to  England, 
and  once  in  the  palace  of  George  I  there  was  a  re- 
markable meeting  of  herself,  Catherine  Sedley,Duchess 


LOUISE    RENEE    DE    KEROUALLE     269 

of  Dorchester,  who  had  given  Mary  o£  Modena  so 
much  affliction,  and  Lady  Orkney,  that  EUzabeth 
ViUiers  who  had  ruined  the  marital  happiness  of 
Queen  Mary  IL  The  irrepressible  and  plain-spoken 
Catherine  said  in  surprise,  "  Who  would  have  thought 

we  three should  meet  here  ?  " 

In  her  old  age  Louise  remained  at  Aubigny,  founded 
a  convent  of  hospital  nuns,  and  decorated  churches, 
dying  in  1734  at  the  age  of  eighty-live.  Her  pension 
of  ^19,000,  which  had  been  granted  to  her  by  Charles 
and  sequestrated  by  William,  was  restored  to  her  son  by 
the  British  Parliament,  and  the  Duke  of  Richmond 
drew  this  amount  until  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago, 
when  it  was  commuted  for  a  sum  of  nearly  ^^500,000. 
Thus  did  England  reward  the  descendants  of  the 
Frenchwoman  who  dragged  her  through  humiliation 
in  the  service  of  a  French  King  ! 


PART   III 

SIR    GODFREY    KNELLER 


SIR   GODFREY   KNELLER 

"  Nature  and  art  in  thee  alike  contend, 
Not  to  oppose  each  other,  but  befriend  ; 
For  what  thy  fancy  has  with  fire  design'd, 
Is  by  thy  skill  both  temper'd  and  refin'd. 
As  in  thy  pictures  light  consents  with  shade, 
And  each  to  other  is  subservient  made, 
Judgment  and  genius  so  concur  in  thee, 
And  both  unite  in  perfect  harmony. 

But  after-days,  my  Friend  !  must  do  thee  right, 
And  set  thy  virtues  in  unenvy'd  light. 
Fame  due  to  vast  desert  is  kept  in  store. 
Unpaid  till  the  deserver  is  no  more  ; 
Yet  thou  in  present  the  best  part  hath  gain'd, 
And  from  the  chosen  few  applause  obtain'd  : 
Ev'n  he  who  best  could  judge  and  best  could  praise. 
Has  high  extoll'd  thee  in  his  deathless  lays  : 
Ev'n  Dryden  has  immortalized  thy  name ; 
Let  that  alone  suffice  thee,  think  that  fame." 

IVilliam  Congreve. 

\ 


CHAPTER   XV 

CAREY  FRASER,  COUNTESS   OF  PETER- 
BOROUGH 

"  What  god,  what  genius  did  the  pencil  move, 
When  Kneller  painted  these  !  " 

Pope. 

The  Chevalier  de  Gramont  has  crystallized  in  words 
some  characters  and  descriptions  which  are  likely  to 
last  so  long  as  humanity  reads  books.  Through  him 
we  know  much  about  people  whose  very  names  would 
have  died  from  memory  and  history  had  he  not 
written  them  in  his  pages.  Had  he  never  told  us  of 
Miss  Hamilton  we  should  have  known  no  more  of  her 
than  we  do  of  Miss  Pitt ;  Mrs.  Middleton  would 
have  merely  been  an  uninteresting  frequenter  of  the 
Courts  of  Mary  of  Modena  and  Anne  ;  Lady  Den- 
ham's  story  would  have  been  told  in  two  lines,  and 
we  might  even  have  been  deluded  by  forget- 
fulness  into  believing  James,  Duke  of  York,  an  ex- 
emplary husband. 

Alas !  Gramont  knew  not  England  when  William  HI 
reigned,  and  he  had  no  successor  to  give  us  the  lighter 
side  of  Court  life — perhaps  that  is  why  we  do  not 
believe  that  there  was  any  lighter  side,  why  it  is  so 
dull  to  us  and  sordid  with  the  stale  aroma  of  past 
banquets,  faded  flowers,  and  retribution  for  sins. 
What  does  any  one  know  of  Carey  Eraser,  Isabella 
s  273 


274      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Bennet,  or  Mary  Compton  ?  The  identity  of  Lady 
Middleton  has  baffled  all  but  one  painstaking  bio- 
grapher, G.  S.  Steinman.  Were  they  maids  of 
honour  or  ladies  of  the  bedchamber  ?  Even  Miss 
Strickland  is  dumb  concerning  them.  She  too  did 
not  know  the  names  of  the  women  who  surrounded 
Queen  Mary,  though  they  must  have  been  in  attend- 
ance upon  Her  Majesty,  doing  their  daily  work, 
and  living  lives  which,  though  they  appear  to  us  to 
have  been  prosaic  and  unnoteworthy,  may  have  held 
as  much  excitement  as  the  lives  of  their  mothers. 

We  look  into  the  biography  of  Lord  Peterborough 
to  seek  information  about  his  wife,  and  the  first  thing 
we  find  is  the  curious  fact  that  she  is  given  two  fathers. 
On  one  page  she  is  said  to  be  the  daughter  of  Sir 
Peter  Eraser,  Bart.,  of  Dotes  or  Durries,  in  the  shire 
of  Mearns — Kincardine — in  Scotland,  and  that  she 
was  a  "  highly  estimable  and  accomplished  lady." 
On  another  page  she  is  given  as  the  daughter  of  Sir 
Alexander  Eraser,  Knt.,  and  was  married  some  time 
before  1688.  Evelyn  speaks  of  having  Sir  Alexander, 
prime  physician  to  the  King,  to  dine  with  him  in 
June,  1666,  most  certainly  the  same  man.  Erom  all 
that  is  to  be  gathered  from  the  many  volumes  con- 
sulted for  these  memoirs,  Carey  was  the  daughter  of 
Dr.  Eraser,  who  wandered  from  Paris  to  Holland  with 
the  rest  of  Charles's  homeless  followers  during  the 
Commonwealth,  the  doctor  of  whom  Clarendon  said, 
"  No  doubt  he  is  good  at  his  business,  otherwise  the 
maddest  fool  alive."  After  the  Restoration  Charles 
knighted  his  faithful  doctor  and  kept  him  always  about 
the  Court. 

The  description  of  the  daughter  as  highly  estimable 


Cakkv  Fkasek,  Countess  of  Pkterborouhh 
{^Aftcr  Kiieller) 


[to    face    I'AGE    274 


CAREY    FRASER  275 

and  accomplished  is  grave  and  correct  in  sentiment, 
though  it  needs  a  great  deal  of  embroidering  to  make 
it  fit  the  lad^,  for  it  scarcely  indicates  the  character 
of  Carey  as  a  girl.  In  her  youth,  when  maid  of  honour 
to  Queen  Mary  of  Modena,  she  was  a  giddy,  extrava- 
gant young  creature,  neither  better  nor  worse  than 
those  who  shared  her  position.  The  first  literary 
mention  we  have  of  her  is  in  1675,  in  the  masque  of 
Calisto  (written  by  that  fertile  but  undistinguished 
dramatist  John  Crowne),  which  was  acted  by  the  ladies 
of  the  Court.  The  chief  characters  were  taken  by 
Princesses  Mary  and  Anne,  Lady  Henrietta  Went- 
worth,  who  fell  in  love  so  tragically  with  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth,  the  Countess  of  Sussex  [Lady  Cleve- 
land's daughter].  Lady  Mary  Mordaunt,  Sarah  Jen- 
nings, and  Miss  Blague.  Among  the  nymphs  attend- 
ing upon  Diana  we  find  Carey  Eraser's  name. 

The  next  year  there  was  every  reason  to  believe 
that  she  would  have  married  Sir  Carr  Scrope,  a 
versifier  and  man  of  fashion,  who  was  greatly  attracted 
by  her  elegance  and  good  looks.  One  would  have 
thought  them  a  well-matched  pair,  for  both  loved 
dress  too  well ;  but  one  evening,  when  Carey  looked 
particularly  lovely  and  the  matter  seemed  near  being 
settled,  she  told  him  heedlessly  that  her  gown  had  cost 
^^300.  The  news  paralysed  the  young  man's  inten- 
tions, fear  killed  his  love,  and  Carey  lost  her  gallant. 

During  that  period  there  was  no  stranger,  wilder 
person  among  the  noble  families  than  young  Charles 
Mordaunt,  the  eldest  son  of  John  Mordaunt  and 
nephew  of  the  Earl  of  Peterborough.  He  matriculated 
at  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  in  1674,  ^^  ^^^  ^g^  °f  ^^^" 
teen,  and  the  same  year  entered  as  a  volunteer  on 


276      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

board  the  Cambridge.  He  was  one  of  the  most  curious 
contradictions  in  his  character,  graceful  and  pleasant 
to  look  at,  imaginative  and  clever,  but  with  a  mind 
obsessed  by  tales  of  blood  and  deeds  of  daring,  such 
as  we  nowadays  ascribe  to  the  influence  of  the  penny 
dreadful. 

After  his  death  his  widow  went  through  a  manu- 
script autobiography  which  he  had  amused  himself 
by  writing  when  he  was  old  and  out  of  public  life, 
and  to  her  horror  she  found  that  he  had  committed 
three  capital  crimes  before  he  was  twenty.  This  so 
shocked  her  that  she  threw  the  book  into  the  fire.  It 
is,  however,  very  probable  that  most  of  the  Earl's 
assertions  were  the  result  of  a  vivid  imagination. 

Charles  Mordaunt  was  a  rover  by  nature,  and  his 
love  of  change  showed  itself  several  times  over  in 
early  life  in  the  usual  youthful  way,  the  desire  to  go 
to  sea.  As  the  annotator  of  Burnet  says,  he  was  "  grace- 
ful and  elegant  in  his  manners  and  person,  and  a 
favourite  with  the  Muses,  yet  he  seemed  emulous  of 
mixing  only  with  the  rough,  and  the  then  untutored, 
brave  tars  of  the  ocean."  When  he  got  a  little  tired 
of  the  brave  tars  young  Mordaunt  came  home,  having 
in  the  meantime  become  Viscount  Mordaunt  through 
the  death  of  his  father. 

Then  he  had  a  thorough  change,  posed  as  a  gallant, 
dressed  like  a  beau,  and  went  to  Court,  naturally 
meeting  the  various  maids  of  honour.  He  no  sooner 
looked  at  Carey  Eraser  than  he  found  that  he  had 
discovered  the  one  woman  in  the  world  to  make  him 
happy,  and  the  two  young  people  were  promptly 
married,  though  he  was  barely  twenty  and  she  was 
younger.     It  is  very  possible  that  they  derived  much 


CAREY    FRASER  277 

happiness  from  their  union  during  the  first  year, 
though  it  is  fairly  certain  that  they  did  not  set  up 
housekeeping  together,  and  that  the  world  knew 
nothing  of  the  marriage.  In  October  of  1678  the 
young  husband  again  obeyed  the  call  of  the  wild,  and 
volunteered  in  the  Bristol,  sailing  in  her  for  the 
Mediterranean. 

A  little  later  scandal  pointed  its  finger  not  at  Lady 
Mordaunt,  but  at  Mrs.  Carey  Eraser,  a  scandal  which 
was  directed  towards  intention  rather  than  fact.  The 
illness  of  Louise  de  Keroualle,  which  occurred  to- 
wards the  end  of  the  seventh  decade,  has  already  been 
described.  It  will  be  remembered  that  when  she  had 
scarcely  turned  the  corner,  she  rose  from  her  bed 
one  day,  had  herself  dressed,  and  went  to  the  play, 
to  which  Charles  had  taken  the  Duchess  Mazarin.  The 
reason  given  for  this  extraordinary  behaviour  is,  as  has 
been  said,  that  she  had  learned  that  various  Court  ladies 
were  competing  for  her  place  in  the  King's  affections 
and  life,  among  those  mentioned  being  Carey  Eraser. 
The  lampoon  of  "  Cullen  with  His  Elock  of  Misses  " 
puts  her  name  fairly  low  down  in  the  list  of  aspirants  ; 
but  as  the  woman  last  named  was  said  to  be  the  chosen 
favourite,  Carey  may  thus  have  been  said  to  stand 
high  in  the  King's  regard.  The  whole  scandal  may 
have  been  entirely  untrue,  but  it  at  least  gives  evi- 
dence that,  though  she  was  a  wife,  she  was  but  an  un- 
acknowledged one  at  this  time.  Her  husband  was 
practically  out  of  England  until  late  in  1680,  though 
he  came  back  for  short  periods.  In  June  of  that  year 
we  learn  from  a  letter  of  Lady  Dorothy  Russell 
(Sacharissa)  that  Lord  Mordaunt  was  sent  out  with 
the  expedition  to  Tangier,  and  she  adds  the  informa- 


278      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

tion  that  "  there  are  few  who  doubt  the  fact  of  his 
marriage,  and  that  he  already  repents  and  is  ashamed 
of  it." 

The  expedition  being  over,  Lord  Mordaunt  settled 
down  in  a  house  at  Fulham,  presumably  with  his  wife, 
though  she  is  not  mentioned,  for  their  eldest  son  was 
born  about  that  time.  It  was  probably  this  event 
which  forced  the  erratic  but  not  unkind  man  to  acknow- 
ledge his  marriage.  He  also  took  his  seat  in  the  House 
of  Lords  and  charmed  his  colleagues  with  his  oratory. 
On  the  accession  of  James,  however,  he  again  became 
a  traveller,  and  plotted  towards  settling  "  the  business 
of  England  "  in  relation  to  William  of  Orange,  during 
whose  reign  he  was  high  in  favour.  In  1697  he 
became  Earl  of  Peterborough  by  the  death  of  his 
uncle. 

Of  his  wife  scarcely  anything  more  is  known. 
Peterborough's  biographers,  when  speaking  of  her, 
adopt  the  apologetic  tone  for  her  husband  :  "  Domestic 
life  was  not  his  forte.  He  never  had  any  formal  quarrel 
or  estrangement  with  his  wife  ;  notwithstanding  his 
gallantries,  delinquencies,  etc.,  she  always  watched 
over  his  interests.  .  .  .  All  his  references  in  letters  to 
his  family  are  affectionate,  nor  does  he  appear  to  have 
had  any  open  quarrel  with  his  wife,  of  whom  for 
many  years  he  saw  but  little." 

After  taking  Barcelona  in  1705  Lord  Peterborough 
wrote  to  Carey  :  "  I  can  now  give  you  joy  upon  taking 
Barcelona,  which  is  effected.  I  can  modestly  say  such 
an  attempt  was  never  made  by  such  a  handful  of 
men.  We  have  taken  in  three  days  the  Castle  of 
Montjuick,  sword  in  hand,  that  resisted  30,000  men 
three  months.  There  were  500  men  in  it.    We  marched 


CAREY    FRASER  279 

with  1000  men  thirteen  hours,  and  with  scaHng  ladders 
took  a  place  upon  a  rock,  much  stronger  than  Ports- 
mouth, and  had  but  800  men,  200  having  lost  us  in 
the  night.  ...  I  would  rather  you  should  hear  of 
this  earlier  from  others  than  myself." 

However  gratifying  it  may  have  been  to  receive 
letters  of  this  sort,  they  could  scarcely  have  compen- 
sated for  a  lonely  life  such  as  that  led  domestically  by 
Lady  Peterborough. 

Peterborough  was  as  inconstant  and  erratic  in  love 
as  he  was  in  all  other  matters ;  it  was  true  of  him  that 
he  was  "  to  one  thing  constant  never."  He  liked  to 
fly  over  the  Continent  faster  than  a  travelling  courier, 
and  it  is  said  that  "  he  saw  more  Kings  and  postillions 
than  any  man  in  Europe."  When  he  captivated  Carey 
Eraser  he  possessed  aquiline  and  regular  features,  with 
blue  eyes  of  an  extreme  brightness  and  vivacity  which 
had  in  them  a  "  peculiar  look  of  devilment."  As  he 
grew  older  he  became  extremely  thin,  so  that  Swift 
said  of  him  that  he  was 

"  A  skeleton  in  outward  form, 
His  meagre  corpse,  though  full  of  vigour, 
Would  halt  behind  him  were  it  bigger." 

Pope  wrote  of  him  that  "  nobody  could  be  more 
wasted,  no  soul  can  be  more  alive." 

There  were  three  children  born  of  this  marriage, 
two  boys  and  a  girl.  His  eldest  son  wished  to  marry 
Marlborough's  daughter.  Lady  Mary  Churchill,  but 
the  Duke  refused  the  alliance  because  of  the  dissolute 
character  of  the  young  man.  These  sons  died  within 
two  months  of  each  other  of  smallpox  in  17 10,  when 
the  eldest  was  thirty.  The  daughter  married  the 
second  Duke  of  Gordon.    Their  mother  did  not  live 


28o      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

to   see   her   boys   pass  away,  for   she  died   in  May, 
1709. 

Later  Peterborough  fell  in  love  with  Anastasia 
Robinson,  the  singer,  whom,  it  might  be  said,  true 
to  his  custom,  he  married  secretly  and  acknowledged 
only  a  little  while  before  his  death. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

FRANCES  WHITMORE,   LADY   MIDDLETON 

"  If  you  truly  note  her  face, 
You  shall  find  it  hath  a  grace 
Neither  wanton,  nor  o'er  serious, 
Nor  too  yielding,  nor  imperious." 

George  Wither, 

Lady  Middleton  has  often  been  confused  with  Mrs. 
Middleton,  renowned  as  the  first  professional  beauty 
that  England  has  ever  known,  but  at  the  date  when 
Mrs.  Middleton  was  encouraging  the  attentions  of 
three  lovers  at  once,  Frances  Whitmore,  later  Lady 
Middleton,  was  not  in  existence,  for  her  birth  did 
not  take  place  until  October,  1666.  She  must  have 
been  the  eldest  of  Lady  Whitmore's  three  daughters, 
for  Frances  Denham  did  not  marry  until  1665.  It  is 
possible  that  the  Whitmores  were  staying  at  the  time 
in  Durham,  as  the  baby  was  baptized  in  Stockton. 
Her  father  and  mother  were  evidently  well  imbued 
with  the  social  fashions  of  the  times,  for  they  made  a 
contract  of  marriage  for  their  daughter  before  she 
was  nine  years  old,  and  it  was  done  with  all  ceremony 
under  a  licence  from  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
the  youthful  bridegroom  being  her  cousin  William 
Whitmore,  son  of  William  Whitmore  who  possessed  a 
mansion  at  Barnes,  or  Balmes,  between  Hoxton  and 
Kingsland,  and  who  was  a  member  of  a  great  City 

281 


282      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

firm  o£  merchants.  In  November,  1679,  when  the 
girl  was  just  thirteen  and  the  boy  fourteen,  the 
marriage  took  place  in  Hackney  Church. 

At  what  age  this  young  couple  began  to  share  the 
same  home  is  not  told  us,  but  they  were  staid  man 
and  wife  between  four  and  iive  years  later,  when 
death  stepped  in  and  dissolved  the  marriage.  William 
Whitmore  had  been  to  Epsom  and  was  driving  home 
alone  in  his  coach,  with  his  pistol  lying  on  the  seat 
beside  him.  By  some  accident  the  weapon  went  off 
and  buried  its  contents  in  its  owner's  legs.  Young  as 
he  was  the  lad  made  the  best  use  he  could  of  the  few 
hours  of  life  remaining  to  him,  and  he  must  have 
been  much  in  love  with  his  girl  wife,  for  he  made  his 
will,  leaving  all  he  possessed  to  her,  and  then  died. 
This  was  on  July  31st,  and  four  days  later  the  prudent 
Mrs.  Whitmore,  in  her  anxiety  to  be  absolutely  cer- 
tain of  her  property,  proved  the  will,  thus  provoking 
from  her  historian  a  pious  hope  that  it  was  after  she 
had  laid  her  husband's  remains  with  those  of  his 
father  in  the  chancel  of  Ramsey  Church,  Essex. 
William  Whitmore  was  buried,  as  seems  to  have 
been  a  favourite  custom  of  the  time,  under  his 
own  pew,  and  a  black  marble  stone  formed  alike  a 
memorial  to  him  and  the  floor  upon  which  his  suc- 
cessors trod. 

How  long  or  how  much  the  fair  Frances  mourned 
her  husband's  early  death  it  is  not  easy  to  say,  but 
in  nine  months  she  found  time  to  do  that,  to  amuse 
herself  in  passing  under  review  those  young  men  who 
were  ready  to  take  the  widow  and  her  income,  and 
to  get  married.  One  of  the  aspirants  for  her  hand 
was    Edward,    Viscount    Cornbury,    third    Earl    of 


Frances  Whitmore,  ]>ai)Y  Middleton 

(.-{//tv   A')iclli'r) 


[to  face  face  282 


FRANCES    WHITMORE  283 

Clarendon,   "  twice-jilted  Cornbuiy,"   as  a   verse  in 
the  State  Poems  describes  him  : 

"  The  next  fine  widow  Whitmore,  she 

Is  told  of  gentle  Cornb ; 

But  the  sly  wight  secur'd  the  Prey 
And  flying  bore  the  nymph  away." 

The  "  sly  wight "  whom  she  married  in  April, 
1685,  was  Sir  Richard  Middleton,  third  baronet,  who 
owned  Chirk  Castle,  and  who  was  for  thirty  years 
Member  of  Parliament  for  Denbighshire.  He  was 
also  nephew  to  Mrs.  Jane  Middleton's  husband.  For 
nine  years  the  Middletons  pleased  or  teased  each 
other,  and  then  Frances  died,  being  only  twenty- 
eight  years  old,  predeceasing  her  husband  by  twenty- 
two  years. 

In  this  account  there  is  no  reason  shown  as  to  why 
she  should  have  been  included  in  the  Court  Beauties, 
and  for  this  omission  the  curious  reticence  concerning 
the  doings  at  the  Courts  of  Mary  and  Anne  must  be 
blamed.  Only  one  woman  of  that  period  has  really 
been  much  mentioned  in  history,  Sarah,  Duchess  of 
Marlborough,  and  she  took  up  so  much  attention 
that  she  filled  the  whole  canvas  almost  from  the  time 
of  her  girlhood. 


CHAPTER   XVII 
ISABELLA   BENNET,   DUCHESS   OF   GRAFTON 

"  You  took  her  up  a  little  tender  flower, 
Just  sprouted  on  a  bank,  which  the  next  frost 
Had  nipped  ;  and,  with  a  careful  loving  hand. 
Transplanted  her  into  your  own  fair  garden. 
Where  the  sun  always  shines  ;  there  long  she  flourished, 
Grew  sweet  to  sense,  and  lovely  to  the  eye." 

Thomas  Ot':vay. 

When  Henry  Bennet,  Earl  of  Arlington,  met  with 
his  repulse  at  the  hands  of  the  silly  Frances  Stuart, 
he  was  said  to  make  up  his  mind  immediately  not  to 
appear  as  a  disconsolate  lover  ;  and  in  order  to  keep 
to  this  resolution  he  went  over  to  Holland  to  find  a 
wife.  The  lady  he  chose  and  who  accepted  him  was, 
but  for  the  bend  sinister,  of  high  birth,  being 
granddaughter  of  Maurice,  Prince  of  Orange,  and 
daughter  of  Lewis  de  Nassau,  Lord  Beverwaert. 
Arlington  was  not  a  popular  man — the  Marquis  de 
Ruvigny  once  said  of  him  that  he  would  sell  his  soul 
to  the  devil  to  worst  an  enemy — but  he  won  his  bride 
quickly  enough  and  brought  her  back  to  England. 
They  had  but  one  child,  the  little  Isabella,  whose 
marriage  occasioned  almost  as  great  a  stir  and  as  many 
heart-burnings  as  did  the  second  marriage  of  Elizabeth 
Percy. 

Lady  Arlington  and  Lady  Sunderland  soon  became 
great  friends,  and  were  on  intimate  terms  for  years. 

284 


Isabella  Fjennet,  Duchess  of  Grafton 
iAfter  Ku tiler') 


[to  face  page  284 


ISABELLA    BENNET  285 

They,  at  the  instigation  of  the  French  ambassador, 
promoted  the  mock  marriage  between  Louise  de 
Keroualle  and  Charles  II  ;  they  constantly  visited 
each  other  and  made  plans  together  for  the  future. 
If  there  was  one  subject  which  seemed  to  need  the 
earnest  thought  of  English  ladies  at  that  time,  it  was 
the  settling  of  their  children  matrimonially.  As  soon 
as  a  child  was  born  the  mother  began  to  cast  about 
for  its  possible  partner,  looking  particularly  for  what 
she  considered  a  suitable  position  with  suitable  wealth  ; 
which  of  course  generally  meant  that  the  other  child 
should  have  a  higher  position  and  more  wealth  than 
her  own.  Logically  carried  out  this  would  bring 
about  no  marriages  at  all;  but  the  whole  matter  was 
one  of  bargain,  and  the  bargainers  always  allowed  a 
margin  in  their  demand  which  could  be  reduced 
when  they  really  came  to  business. 

About  the  same  time  that  Lady  Arlington's  daugh- 
ter was  born  Lady  Sunderland  gave  birth  to  a  son, 
and  there  was  something  of  a  promise  between  the 
two  mothers  that  their  children  should  be  given  to 
each  other  in  marriage.  Both  the  husbands  were 
rising  men,  inclined  to  amass  wealth  and  honours, 
and  all  things  considered,  the  match  promised  to  be 
satisfactory  to  both  sides.  The  fathers  also  spoke  of 
this  idea  and  agreed  that  the  arrangement  would  be 
a  pleasant  one  for  the  advancement  of  both  families. 

But  they  had  all  reckoned  without  a  certain  lady 
who,  feeling  that  things  were  not  going  well  with 
her,  determined  to  gather  as  much  wealth  around 
her  as  possible  before  she  owned  herself  defeated. 
After  the  advent  of  the  French  "  miss  "  Lady  Castle- 
maine  knew  that  her  reign  was  over,  so  she  first  secured 


286      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

titles,  houses,  and  estates  for  herself  ;  then  she  de- 
manded safeguards  against  poverty  for  her  children. 
One  of  the  safeguards  she  coveted  was  little  Isabella 
Bennet,  an  infant  not  then  five  years  old.  Barbara 
went  as  usual  to  Charles  with  her  idea,  and  after 
much  discussion  he  was  badgered  into  demanding  the 
child  as  a  bride  for  Henry  Fitzroy,  the  second 
son,  then  eight  years  old.  This  demand  fell  like 
a  bomb  into  the  household  of  Euston,  where  the 
first  impulse  was  to  refuse  compliance.  Barbara, 
though  of  high  lineage,  was  disliked  everywhere  for 
her  coarse,  low  manners  and  her  bad  reputation ; 
while  it  was  known  that  her  children  were  being 
brought  up  in  the  most  casual  fashion,  with  little 
education,  spoiled  by  their  erratic  mother  one  day 
and  buffeted  the  next.  Various  feeble  attempts  were 
made  to  escape  the  suggested  alliance,  but  a  king's  word 
was  arbitrary  in  those  days,  even  over  the  private  affairs 
of  a  subject,  and  the  betrothal  duly  took  place  on 
August  1st,  1672,  when  little  Isabella  was  four  and 
a  half  years  old.  Archbishop  Sheldon  performed 
the  ceremony  in  the  presence  of  the  King  and  all 
the  Court.  John  Evelyn,  who  attended,  records  in 
melancholy  fashion  that  "  I  had  a  favour  given  me 
by  my  Lady  ;  but  took  no  great  joy  at  the  thing  for 
many  reasons." 

In  July,  before  this  marriage  contract  took  place, 
Buckingham,  who  in  versatile  mood  was  always  ready 
to  interfere  in  other  people's  concerns,  tried  to  per- 
suade Charles  not  to  let  the  arrangements  for  the 
union  go  on,  as  he  knew  of  a  bride  who  was  much 
better  suited  to  his  son,  this  being  Elizabeth  Percy, 
then  about  a  year  older  than  Isabella.    Charles,  how- 


ISABELLA   BENNET  287 

ever,  said  that  his  proposition  came  too  late,  the  other 
matter  being  concluded. 

Through  the  years  that  intervened  between  this 
event  and  the  actual  marriage  in  1679,  when  the  con- 
tracting parties  were  respectively  fifteen  and  twelve, 
the  dissatisfaction  of  Lord  and  Lady  Arlington 
augmented  rather  than  lessened,  and  rumours  were 
constantly  afloat,  even  as  late  as  1678,  that  the  match 
was  broken  off.  The  Sunderlands  were  sore  about 
it,  Lord  Sunderland  complaining  openly  of  Arlington 
and  saying  that  he  held  his  promise  for  his  daughter's 
marrying  his  son.  In  the  meanwhile  the  boy  had 
been  made  Earl  of  Euston — the  name  being  taken 
from  Arlington's  country  seat — and  had  in  1675  re- 
ceived the  title  of  Duke  of  Grafton. 

As  the  marriage  really  seemed  quite  inevitable, 
Arlington  thought  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  make 
the  best  of  it  and  train  the  bridegroom  as  well  as 
he  could  for  his  position  in  life.  To  this  end  he  in- 
vited the  boy  to  Euston  that  he  might  know  him 
better,  but  Barbara,  probably  aware  of  her  child's 
deficiency  in  manners,  refused  to  let  him  go.  Then 
Arlington  appealed  to  the  King,  who  said  he  should 
go,  and  the  Chamberlain  took  the  boy  with  him.  After 
this  he  made  plans  for  having  him  properly  taught, 
but  once  again  Barbara  strongly  objected  ;  she  would 
not  and  could  not  part  with  him,  she  said,  and  in  fact 
she  did  not  care  "  for  any  education  other  than  what 
nature  and  herself  can  give  him,  which  will  be  suffi- 
cient accomplishment  for  a  married  man." 

Then  suddenly,  on  November  6th,  1679,  when  it 
had  for  long  been  common  talk  that  the  second 
marriage  would  never  take  place,  it  was  solemnized 


288      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

at  Whitehall  in  the  apartments  of  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain— for  Lord  Arlington  held  this  post — by  the  Bishop 
of  Rochester. 

The  ceremony  had  probably  been  hurried  on  by 
Barbara  Cleveland,  who  had  come  back  to  England 
on  a  visit,  and  who  had  no  idea  of  seeing  this  matri- 
monial prize  slip  out  of  the  reach  of  her  family.  The 
King  was  present,  and  at  the  subsequent  supper  sat 
between  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  and  "  the  sweet 
Duchess,  the  bride."  Evelyn,  who  had  been  invited, 
was  full  of  foreboding  and  commiseration  :  "  I  con- 
fess I  could  give  her  [Lady  Arlington]  little  joy,  and 
so  I  plainly  told  her,  but  she  said  the  King  would 
have  it  so,  and  there  was  no  going  back.  This  sweetest, 
hopefullest,  most  beautiful  child,  and  most  virtuous 
too,  was  sacrificed  to  a  boy  that  had  been  rudely  bred, 
without  anything  to  encourage  them  but  His  Majesty's 
pleasure.  I  pray  God  the  sweet  child  find  it  to  her 
advantage,  who,  if  my  augury  deceive  me  not,  will  in 
few  years  be  such  a  paragon  as  were  fit  to  make  the 
wife  of  the  greatest  Prince  in  Europe  !  I  staid  supper, 
where  His  Majesty  sat  between  the  Duchess  of  Cleve- 
land (the  mother  of  the  Duke  of  Grafton)  and  the 
sweet  Duchess,  the  bride  ;  there  were  several  great 
persons  and  ladies,  without  pomp.  My  love  to  my 
Lord  Arlington's  family  and  the  sweet  child  made 
me  behold  all  this  with  regret,  though  as  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  affects  the  sea,  to  which  I  find  his  father 
intends  to  use  him,  he  may  emerge  a  plain,  useful, 
and  robust  officer  ;  and  were  he  poHshed,  a  tolerable 
person." 

Evelyn  was  perhaps  too  much  affected  by  the 
knowledge  of  what  Barbara,  the  boy's  mother,  was 


ISABELLA   BENNET  289 

in  character,  to  be  quite  fair  to  the  young  untried 
bridegroom.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Duke  of  Grafton 
was  certainly  the  most  gallant  of  Charles's  six  sons 
who  grew  to  manhood,  and  he  unfortunately  died  in 
battle  in  1690,  before  he  was  thirty.  He  was  besides 
extremely  handsome,  far  more  so  than  any  of  Charles's 
other  children  excepting  the  Duke  of  Monmouth. 
He  was  sent  as  a  volunteer  to  learn  his  profession 
under  Sir  John  Berry,  and  had  one  honour  after 
another  heaped  upon  him,  being  made  Knight  of 
the  Garter,  an  Elder  Brother  of  Trinity  House,  Colonel 
of  the  first  Foot  Guards,  and,  on  the  death  of  Prince 
Rupert,  Vice-Admiral  of  England.  He  was  Lord 
High  Constable  at  the  coronation  of  James  H,  and 
active  in  suppressing  the  Monmouth  rebellion. 

Lord  Arlington  had  built  for  himself  a  noble  house 
at  Euston,  in  Suffolk.  Macaulay  speaks  of  its  "  stately 
pavilions,  the  fish-ponds,  the  deer-park,  and  the 
orangery "  ;  and  this  palace,  as  it  was  generally 
named,  was  brought  into  the  Grafton  family  by 
Isabella,  who  became  Countess  of  Arlington  in  her 
own  right  on  her  father's  death.  One  side  of  the 
building  contained  various  apartments,  kitchen,  ofiices, 
servants'  lodgings,  everything  complete  of  which  to 
make  a  house,  and  the  Earl  said  it  was  his  intention 
to  retire  here  and  wholly  resign  the  palace  itself  to 
his  son-in-law  and  daughter,  "  that  charming  young 
creature." 

The  young  Duke,  however,  had  evidently  a  house 
in  town,  as  his  first  child,  a  boy,  was  born  there  in 
November,  1683.  Evelyn  is  almost  the  only  chronicler 
who  has  mentioned  the  Duchess,  and  he  does  so  always 
with  admiration  and  affection.     "  I  went  to  compli- 

T 


290      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

ment  the  Duchess  o£  Grafton,  now  lying-in  of  her 
first  child,  a  son,  which  she  called  for  that  I  might 
see  it.  She  was  become  more  beautiful,  if  it  were 
possible,  than  before,  and  full  of  virtue  and  sweet- 
ness. She  discoursed  with  me  of  many  particulars, 
with  great  prudence  and  gravity  beyond  her  years." 

The  Duke  of  Grafton  was  loyal  to  his  uncle  until 
the  last  week  or  so  of  his  reign,  when  with  Churchill 
he  went  over  to  the  side  of  William.  In  the 
Monmouth  rebellion  he  showed  great  gallantry,  and 
nearly  lost  his  life  at  Philip  Norton,  near  Bath,  about 
which  the  rebels  lay  hidden.  He  led  a  body  of  five 
hundred  men  against  them,  and  his  way  lay  through 
a  deep  lane  with  fences  on  both  sides.  When  the 
company  had  got  thoroughly  into  the  lane  a  galling 
fire  of  musketry  broke  out  from  the  hedges,  but  the 
Duke  pushed  on  until  he  reached  the  entrance  to 
Philip  Norton.  There  the  road  was  crossed  by  a 
barricade  and  a  third  deadly  fire  met  them.  His 
men's  courage  failed  and  they  retreated,  losing  a 
hundred  men,  and  there  was  nothing  for  Grafton  to 
do  but  to  gallop  after  them.  At  one  point  rebel  horse- 
men surrounded  him,  but  he  cut  his  way  through 
and  came  off  safely. 

In  the  year  following  he  made  himself  notorious  by 
fighting  two  fatal  duels,  though  little  information 
remains  about  them  excepting  that  he  killed  Mr. 
Stanley,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Derby,  upon  "  an 
almost  insufferable  provocation." 

There  are  on  record  many  brave  deeds  done  by 
this  man,  who  inherited  a  king-like  spirit  if  he  could 
not  claim  the  name  of  a  king,  and  in  1690,  when  only 
twenty-seven,  he  went  over  to  Ireland  and  led  four 


ISABELLA    BENNET  291 

regiments,  wading  up  to  the  armpits  in  water  to  effect 
a  landing  under  the  walls  of  Cork  and  storm  the  town 
through  a  breach.  They  had  almost  succeeded  when 
a  shot  broke  two  of  his  ribs  and  mortally  wounded 
him.  His  body  was  brought  back  to  England  and 
buried  at  Euston,  he  being  widely  lamented  for  his 
reckless  courage,  his  daring,  and  his  honest  if  rough 
temperament.  He  left  but  one  son,  who  was  in  no 
sense  his  father's  equal,  though  he  was  not  so  stupid 
as  he  was  painted.    Of  him  Lord  John  Hervey  wrote  : 

"  So  your  friend  booby  Grafton  I'll  e'en  let  you  keep  ; 
Awake  he  can't  hurt ;  and  he's  still  half  asleep." 

He  gained  renown  by  making  love  to  Princess  Amelia, 
between  whom  and  himself  there  was  a  romantic 
attachment,  though  he  was  old  enough  to  have  been 
her  father. 

After  the  Duke  of  Grafton's  death  his  varioue 
"  places  "  were  eagerly  sought,  and  a  post  as  Pro- 
thonotary,  or  Chief  Clerk  in  the  Law,  which  had  been 
conferred  upon  him  and  his  son  by  Charles  H — who 
lightly  filled  important  posts  with  boys  and  unable 
favourites — was  desired  by  the  legal  fraternity,  the 
Lord  Chief  Justice  challenging  the  right  of  the  young 
Duke  to  retain  it ;  upon  which  the  spirited  Isabella 
appealed  to  the  House  of  Lords.  How  it  ended 
cannot  be  told,  except  that  "  the  judges  were  severely 
reproved  for  something  they  said." 

At  her  husband's  death  Isabella  was  in  the  ripeness 
of  her  beauty — only  twenty-three  years  old,  and 
possessed  of  one  of  the  first  positions  in  the  land. 
It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  she  married  again, 
though  she  remained  a  widow  eight  years ;    then  she 


292      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

chose  for  her  husband  a  man  who  was  young,  hand- 
some and  clever,  and  "  possessed  of  very  considerable 
paternal  estates."  This  was  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer, 
who  became  one  of  the  most  considered  men  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  who  travelled  much  with  the 
Duke  of  Ormond.  He  was  associated  with  Swift  in 
the  production  of  political  pamphlets  and  kept  up  a 
friendship  with  the  Dean  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 
He  was  a  Tory  until  171 3,  when  he  became  Whig, 
was  elected  Speaker  without  opposition  in  succession 
to  Bromley  in  1714,  and  there  was  a  rumour  that  he 
would  become  Secretary  of  State. 

Isabella  must  have  been  very  conservative,  for  we 
have  a  picture  of  her  in  171 1  which  shows  that  she 
still  affected  the  curious  dress  of  her  prime.  Thus 
Mary  II  brought  into  fashion  a  kind  of  lace  head- 
dress, rising  one  tier  above  another  on  the  top  of 
the  head,  an  adornment,  or  rather  defacement,  which 
was  soon  discredited.  Yet  years  later  Swift  described 
dining  with  the  Duchess  of  Grafton — she  kept  her 
titles  all  through — and  her  husband,  and  wrote  of 
her  :  "  She  wears  a  great  high  head-dress  such  as  was  in 
fashion  fifteen  years  ago,  and  looks  like  a  mad  woman 
in  it ;  yet  she  has  great  remains  of  beauty."  She  died 
in  1723,  when  nearly  fifty-six  years  of  age. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 
DIANA   DE  VERE,   DUCHESS   OF   ST.   ALBANS 

"  Once  I  beheld  the  fairest  of  her  kind 
(And  still  the  sweet  idea  charms  my  mind)  ; 
True  she  was  dumb ;   for  Nature  gazed  so  long, 
Pleased  with  her  work,  that  she  forgot  her  tongue, 
But  smiling  said,  She  still  shall  gain  the  prize  ; 
I  only  have  transferred  it  to  her  eyes. 
Such  are  thy  pictures,  Kneller,  such  thy  skill. 
That  Nature  seems  obedient  to  thy  will ; 
Comes  out  and  meets  thy  pencil  in  the  draught, 
Lives  there,  and  wants  but  words  to  speak  her  thought." 

Dry  den. 

If  Charles  II  launched  upon  society  six  Dukes  of 
irregular  birth,  it  was  not  because  there  were  not 
men  at  his  Court  whose  family  history  was  of  the 
highest  order  ;  and  there  is  something  satiric  in  the 
fact  that  the  wanton  King  should  bring  about  a 
marriage  between  the  daughter  of  a  family  possessing 
the  longest  and  most  heroic  lineage  in  his  realm,  "  the 
Fighting  Veres,"  and  the  son  of  the  orange-girl  Nell. 
If  this  really  was  his  doing  he  was  only  actuated  by 
the  ordinary  parental  desire  to  do  the  best  he  could 
for  his  offspring.  It  is  not  unhkely  that  he  also  did 
a  good  thing  for  the  race  in  mating  a  sturdy  son  of 
a  robust  and  low-born  mother  with  the  last  repre- 
sentative of  an  old  family.  Yet  it  is  altogether  doubt- 
ful whether  Charles  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
matter,  as  the  poor  man  was  dead  and  buried  nine 

293 


294      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

years  before  Charles  Beauclerc  and  Diana  de  Vere 
were  married. 

Mrs.  Jameson  was  very  sentimental  over  Nell  Gwyn 
and  remarks  that  her  son  was  made  Baron  of  Hed- 
dington  and  Earl  of  Burford  in  1676,  and  that  "  about 
this  time  the  heiress  of  the  Veres  was  betrothed  by 
the  King  to  the  young  Earl.  Nell  Gwyn  lived  to  see 
the  future  wife  of  her  son  in  the  infancy  of  those 
charms  which  made  her  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
of  the  Kneller  Beauties." 

Now  as  Charles  Beauclerc  was  born  in  1670,  and  was 
that  same  year  made  Baron  Heddington  and  Earl  of 
Burford,  there  seems  to  be  some  discrepancy  in  this 
writer's  facts,  and  there  probably  is  some  in  her  senti- 
mental effusion  concerning  Nell  Gwyn.  In  1676 
Diana  must  have  been  a  veritable  baby,  even  if  she 
was  in  existence,  and  the  marriage,  which  was  most 
probably  brought  about  by  spontaneous  attraction, 
did  not  take  place  until  1694.  We  can  hardly  imagine 
a  betrothal  which  lasted  eighteen  years,  and  certainly 
had  there  been  a  contract  of  marriage  the  ceremony 
would  have  taken  place  years  earlier. 

It  is  quite  evident  that  Diana  was  a  prize  in  the 
matrimonial  market,  and  not  only  for  her  wealth  ; 
for  here  and  there  one  comes  across  a  hint  of  jealousy 
and  envy  on  the  part  of  other  young  men — "  the 
lucky  husband  of  the  lovely  Diana  " — remarks  which 
would  scarcely  have  been  made  had  she  been  con- 
tracted for  many  years.  By  1694  the  Duke  of  St. 
Albans,  a  title  he  received  in  1684,  had  proved  his 
valour,  his  steadiness,  and  his  good  sense,  and  was 
much  more  the  equal  not  only  of  his  bride,  but  of  his 
bride's   father,   than   he   could   have   been   in    1676. 


Diana  de  Vere,  Duchess  oe  St.  Aluans 

[to    I  ace    PAtiE   294 


DIANA   DE   VERE  295 

Then  there  might  have  been  some  resistance  on  the 
score  of  low  birth,  and  one  wonders  how  the  old 
Earl,  whose  pedigree  was  longer  than  that  of  many- 
kings,  including  Charles,  would  have  accepted  Nell 
Gwyn  as  a  connection,  even  though  he  had  obliged 
the  King  in  standing  sponsor  to  Barbara's  first  son. 

Aubrey  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  merits  a  word  or 
two.  In  his  own  day  he  was  said  to  be  the  noblest 
subject  in  Europe,  and  his  forerunners  had  taken 
their  part  at  Hastings,  in  the  Crusades,  at  Runnymede, 
at  Crecy,  and  Poictiers.  One  Earl  had  been  the 
leader  of  the  party  of  the  Red  Rose,  another  had  shone 
at  the  Court  of  Elizabeth,  and  Aubrey's  father  had 
fallen  under  the  walls  of  Maestricht  in  defence  of 
Protestantism,  while  he  himself  had  later  to  suffer  for 
his  religion  by  losing  his  offices  at  Court.  At  the 
Restoration  he  was  given  a  seat  in  the  Privy  Council, 
was  made  a  Knight  of  the  Garter  and  Lord-Lieutenant 
of  Essex.  He  was  Colonel  of  a  regiment  known  as  the 
Oxford  Blues,  generally  after  his  death  spoken  of  as 
"  the  Blues."  With  all  this  he  was  a  man  of  in- 
offensive temper,  courtly  manners,  and  of  loose  morals 
— his  mistress  being  Mrs.  Davenport,  better  known  as 
Roxalana,  whom  he  secured  by  a  mock  marriage. 

Pepys  tells  us  of  a  ridiculous  falling  out  at  the 
house  of  the  Earl  of  Oxford  one  day  in  1663,  the 
friends  with  him  on  that  occasion  including  Belasyse 
and  Tom  Porter.  "  There  were  high  words  and  some 
blows,  and  pulling  off  of  periwigs,  till  my  Lord  Monk 
took  away  some  of  their  swords  and  sent  for  soldiers 
to  guard  the  house  until  the  fray  ended."  The  French 
ambassador,  in  writing  an  account  of  the  affair  to 
France,  says  that  after  the  fight  had  been  brought 


296      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

to  an  end  the  inimical  friends  stayed  so  long  that 
they  needed  to  eat  again,  and  then  as  they  again 
required  strong  drink,  General  Monk  presented  to 
each  man  a  hanaf,  a  very  large  bowl  of  wine,  which 
they  must  drink,  or  go  away.  A  few  went,  but  most 
of  them  stayed  there  until  the  next  day  without 
speaking  to  each  other.  The  ambassador  names  it  "  a 
very  pleasant  affair." 

But  this  little  pleasantry  happened  years  before 
either  Diana  or  Beauclerc  was  born,  neither  of  whom 
attracted  much  public  attention  in  youth.  The  boy 
was  fourteen  years  old  when  he  received  his  dukedom  ; 
and  on  Easter  Day  of  that  year,  the  Bishop  of  Roches- 
ter preaching  before  the  King,  he  was  present  with 
his  father.  Evelyn  tells  us  that  after  the  sermon  His 
Majesty,  with  three  of  his  natural  sons,  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland,  son  of  Lady  Cleveland,  the  Duke 
of  Richmond,  son  of  Lady  Portsmouth,  and  the  Duke 
of  St.  Albans,  son  of  Nell  Gwyn,  went  up  to  the  altar  ; 
the  three  boys  entering  before  the  King  within  the  rails 
at  the  right  hand,  and  the  three  Bishops  on  the  left, 
they  being  the  Bishops  of  London — who  officiated — 
of  Durham,  and  of  Rochester.  Evelyn  adds  in  a  later 
mention  of  the  boys :  "  What  the  Dukes  of  Richmond 
and  St.  Albans  will  prove  their  youth  does  not  yet 
discover  ;    they  are  very  pretty  boys." 

King  Charles  was  always  willing  to  bestow  honours 
upon  his  boys  as  well  as  posts  for  which  they  were 
quite  unfitted.  Thus  the  Duke  of  Richmond  became 
Grand  Equerry  when  only  a  baby,  and  St.  Albans  was 
a  young  boy  when  he  was  made  Master  Falconer, 
a  post  which  had  doubtless  already  become  a  mere 
sinecure. 


DIANA   DE   VERE  297 

The  only  reference  we  have  concerning  Diana  in 
her  girlhood  is  that,  at  Mary's  coronation  in  1689, 
during  which  so  many  mistakes  were  made  and  over 
which  hung  so  much  gloom,  she  was  one  of  the  train- 
bearers  to  the  Queen,  one  of  the  other  ladies  being 
the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  the  wife  of  the  "  Proud  " 
Duke.  Diana  was  maid  of  honour  to  Mary  until  she 
was  married  in  1694.  From  that  time  she  must  have 
been  much  occupied  in  following  the  career  of  her 
husband  and  in  attending  to  the  fine  family  of  eight 
sons  with  which  she  presented  him.  After  his 
marriage  the  Duke  was  allowed  a  pension  of  ^£2000  a 
year  from  the  Crown,  and  he  also  held  the  office  of 
Registrar  of  the  High  Court  of  Chancery,  which  was 
worth  ;^I500  a  year,  so  he  had  a  good  income  at 
the  value  of  money  at  that  time,  and  furthermore  he 
was  much  in  favour  with  William.  He  received  the 
Colonelcy  of  a  regiment  of  horse,  distinguished  him- 
self at  the  siege  of  Belgrade,  and  became  a  Captain  of 
the  Pensioners.  Once,  to  show  his  favour,  the  King 
bestowed  upon  him  a  "  sett  of  coach  horses  finely 
spotted  like  leopards,"  rather  an  embarrassing  gift, 
one  would  have  thought.  He  was  sent  on  important 
embassies,  and  once,  the  year  after  his  marriage,  had 
the  good  fortune  to  accomplish  what  forty  people 
had  vainly  tried  to  do,  including  his  stepbrother  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland  ;  that  is  to  escape  from 
three  highwaymen  who  had  plundered  all  those  people 
on  Hounslow  Heath  in  one  night  !  If  this  is  true  the 
plundered  ones  must  have  actually  offered  their  valu- 
ables to  the  robbers,  who  "  attempted  "  the  Duke 
of  St.  Albans  unsuccessfully. 

When  the  Tories  came  in,  St.  Albans  the  Whig  had 


298      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

to  rusticate  and  lose  most  of  his  good  appointments, 
but  George  I  reinstated  him  and  made  him  a  Knight 
of  the  Garter.  He  died  in  1726,  and  his  widow  sur- 
vived him  sixteen  years.  The  pity  is  that  the  ascer- 
tainable facts  about  her  are  so  few. 


CHAPTER   XIX 
MARGARET   CECIL,   COUNTESS   OF   RANELAGH 

**  I  who  was  late  so  volatile  and  gay, 
Like  a  trade  wind  must  now  blow  all  one  way, 
Bend  all  my  cares,  my  studies,  and  my  vows, 
To  one  dull  rusty  weathercock — my  spouse !  " 

Sheridan. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  forget  the  light-hearted  Mr. 
Richard  Jones,  the  friend,  the  confidant,  and  the 
rival  of  the  Chevalier  de  Gramont,  who  was  once  in 
love  with  "  the  most  beautiful,  lazy,  languishing, 
affected,  and  irresistible  "  woman  in  London,  Mrs. 
Jane  Middleton.  He  had  been  very  much  in  love 
and  had  disposed  of  many  handsome  presents  when 
the  Frenchman  appeared,  anxiously  seeking  some 
goddess  whom  he  could  adore.  As  Richard  Jones 
was  wearying  of  the  fair  Jane  and  was  also  exceedingly 
weary  of  parting  with  so  much  good  money,  he  wel- 
comed Gramont  effusively,  helped  him  in  his  love- 
making,  and  when  there  was  danger  of  his  being 
outrivalled  warned  him  to  beware. 

This  astute  gentleman  was  an  Irishman,  "  a  man 
of  great  parts  and  as  great  vices  ;  he  had  a  pleasantness 
in  his  conversation  which  took  much  with  the  King  ; 
and  had  a  great  dexterity  in  business."  So  says  Burnet, 
who  spoke  with  personal  knowledge.  His  dexterity 
was  sometimes  exercised  in  a  way  which,  had  he  been 

299 


300      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

a  poor  and  obscure  man,  would  have  earned  him  not 
only  the  name,  but  the  fate  of  a  thief.  He  persuaded 
the  King  practically  to  farm  out  Ireland  to  him,  and 
in  return  he  diverted  a  considerable  amount  of  money 
into  Charles's  pocket  and  allowed  the  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth  to  dip  her  hands  pretty  deeply  into  his 
Treasury.  When  it  came  to  getting  his  accounts  duly 
passed  neither  he  nor  Charles  was  quite  so  happy,  and 
the  latter  used  his  influence  to  persuade  Lord  Essex 
to  pass  the  accounts  without  examining  them.  To 
which  that  upright  man  replied  that  he  would  declare 
the  Earl  of  Ranelagh  to  be  excused  from  presenting 
his  accounts,  but  that  he  could  not  do  more. 

Richard  had  become  Viscount  Ranelagh  on  his 
father's  death,  and  Charles  made  him  an  Earl  in  1674, 
also  appointing  him  Gentleman  of  the  Bedchamber 
three  years  later.  His  honours  settled  him  yet  more 
firmly  in  his  Vice-Treasurership  of  Ireland,  and  by 
1 68 1  his  books  were  in  such  disorder  that  a  sum  of 
jf  76,000  was  missing,  which  was  demanded  of  him — a 
demand  remitted  by  the  King's  favour.  He  was 
Privy  Councillor  and  Paymaster-General  of  the  Forces 
under  James,  as  well  as  under  William,  and  in  1702 
he  was  publicly  accused  of  owing  millions  to  the 
State.  As  he  preferred  to  resign  his  post  rather  than 
face  an  inquiry,  he  was  regarded  as  guilty,  was  ex- 
pelled from  Parliament,  and  an  address  demanding 
his  prosecution  was  presented  to  Queen  Anne.  His 
friends,  however,  were  jubilant  and  commiserated  him 
as  being  unjustly  accused  when  they  found  that  his 
defalcations  amounted  only  to  the  trifling  sum  of 
jf72,ooo  !  The  extraordinary  thing  is  that  a  man 
who  from  the  first  was  proved  to  be  dishonest  should 


Marcaret  Cecil,  Countess  oi"  Ranela(-.h 
[^Aj'ter  Knelkr) 


[to  kack  page  3U0 


MARGARET   CECIL  301 

all  through  a  long  life  have  been  thrust  into  positions 
of  trust  where  it  was  only  too  easy  to  peculate. 

After  his  disgrace  his  influence  at  Court  allowed 
him  once  again  to  go  scot  free  of  any  penalty,  and 
further  it  got  him  the  appointment  of  Governor  of 
Queen  Anne's  Bounty  for  the  Augmentation  of  the 
Maintenance  of  Poor  Clergymen  !  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  the  poor  clergymen  were  allowed  to  take  some 
share  of  the  money  which  thus  passed  through  the 
hands  of  the  notorious  Earl. 

This  is  the  man  whom  Margaret  Cecil,  daughter  of 
James,  the  third  Earl  of  Salisbury,  who  for  "  loyalty, 
generosity,  and  affability  was  most  likely  to  advance 
the  noble  name  of  Cecil  to  the  utmost  period  of 
glory,"  elected  to  marry,  choosing  him  from  many 
suitors.  She  had  been  married  as  a  child  to  John 
Lord  Stowell  or  Stawell,  and  at  the  age  of  nineteen 
was  so  fascinated  by  the  humour  and  gay  disposition 
of  the  irresponsible  Irishman,  who  was,  just  sixty  years 
old  and  the  father  of  four  grown-up  daughters,  and 
further  was  "  frisky  and  juvenile,  curly  and  gay," 
that  she  thought  it  a  happiness  to  become  his  second 
wife. 

Henry  Fielding  in  describing  Sophia  Western  can 
think  of  no  more  beautiful  person  to  whom  to  liken 
her  than  Lady  Ranelagh.  "  Reader,  perhaps  thou 
hast  seen  the  statue  of  the  Venus  de  Medici.  Perhaps 
too  thou  hast  seen  the  gallery  of  beauties  at  Hampton 
Court.  .  .  .  Or  if  their  reign  was  before  thy  time,  at 
least  thou  hast  seen  their  daughters,  the  no  less  dazzling 
beauties  of  the  present  age.  ...  If  thou  hast  seen  all 
these  without  knowing  what  beauty  is,  thou  hast  no 
eyes ;  if  without  feeling  its  power,  thou  hast  no  heart. 


302      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

Yet  is  it  possible,  my  friend,  that  thou  mayst  have  seen 
all  these  without  being  able  to  form  an  exact  idea. of 
Sophia  ;  for  she  did  not  exactly  resemble  any  of  them. 
She  was  most  like  the  picture  of  Lady  Ranelagh." 

Lady  Ranelagh's  life  can  only  be  most  meagrely 
described  by  indicating  that  of  her  husband.  She 
was  one  of  Queen  Anne's  ladies,  and  was  probably, 
earlier,  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber  to  Queen  Mary. 
One  wonders  if  she  sympathized  with  Mary  in  her 
extraordinary  horticultural  craze  for  clipped  yews, 
Dutch  gardens,  and  the  artificial  training  of  beautiful 
plants,  with  which  she  transformed  the  grounds  of 
Hampton  Court.  If  Ranelagh  had  a  virtue  out  of  the 
ordinary,  it  lay  in  his  love  for  and  attention  to  flori- 
culture. This  was  so  strong  that  Charles  appointed 
him  Superintendent  of  the  Royal  edifices  and  pleasure 
grounds,  sending  him  to  try  his  prentice  hand  on 
Hampton  Court.  It  may  be  hoped  that  his  taste 
was  better  than  that  of  Queen  Mary,  who  followed 
him  in  arranging  those  gardens  and  probably  altered 
all  that  he  did.  It  is  said  that  Ranelagh  ruined  him- 
self by  building  his  house  and  laying  out  his  gardens 
just  east  of  Chelsea  College  ;  if  so  he  and  his  wife 
found  in  it  a  solace  and  a  joy  after  his  disgrace.  Here 
they  spent  their  days,  and  in  spite  of  all  his  faults 
Ranelagh  could  always  be  happy  in  a  garden.  After 
his  death  Ranelagh  House  was  for  a  time  one  of  the 
most  fashionable  and  fascinating  of  resorts  for  those 
who  had  money  to  spend. 

There  is  a  story  that  the  Earl  disinherited  his  only 
daughter  because  she  married  Lord  Coningsby,  a 
brave,  eccentric,  blundering  man,  and  left  all  his 
property    to    Greenwich    Hospital;    but    this   could 


MARGARET   CECIL  303 

scarcely  be  true,  as  he  had  four  daughters,  and  there 
is  an  account  of  the  place  having  been  bequeathed 
in  the  next  century  to  the  surviving  wife  of  a  later 
Viscount  Ranelagh.  The  Earl  also  possessed  a  house 
at  Cranburn,  one  of  the  "  finest  places  for  nature 
and  plantations  that  ever  I  saw,"  remarked  Swift,  who 
visited  it. 

The  Dean  commented  upon  Ranelagh's  death, 
which  occurred  in  January,  1711-12:  "  He  was  very 
poor  and  needy,  and  could  hardly  support  himself 
for  want  of  a  pension  which  used  to  be  paid  him, 
and  which  his  friends  solicited  as  a  thing  of  perfect 
charity.  He  died  hard,  as  the  term  of  art  here  is  to 
express  the  woeful  state  of  men  who  discover  no 
religion  at  their  death." 

Poor  Margaret  Cecil,  she  was  nineteen  when  she 
married  in  1696,  which  would  make  her  thirty-five 
at  her  husband's  death.  He  was  then  seventy-six, 
disgraced,  shunned,  and  in  poverty  !  Surely  her  life 
could  have  had  little  gaiety  in  it,  and  it  is  allowable 
to  hope  that  during  the  sixteen  years  that  remained 
to  her  she  was  at  least  relieved  from  necessity  and 
enabled  to  find  life  amusing. 


CHAPTER   XX 
MARY   COMPTON,   COUNTESS   OF   DORSET 

"  The  gen'rous  god,  who  wit  and  gold  refines, 
And  ripens  spirits  as  he  ripens  mines, 
Kept  dross  for  duchesses,  the  world  shall  know  it, 
To  you  gave  sense,  good-humour,  and  a  poet." 

Pope. 

After  the  death  of  his  wife — once  Countess  Falmouth 
— within  a  year  of  their  marriage,  Lord  Dorset  re- 
mained a  widower  for  about  six  years,  until  1685. 
Then  he  married  Mary,  daughter  of  James  Compton, 
the  third  Earl  of  Northampton,  and  niece  to  that 
Spencer  Compton  who  had  been  so  much  in  love 
with  Anne  Hyde,  and  who  might  have  given  her  so 
much  happier  a  life  than  did  James,  Duke  of  York. 
She  was  also  niece  to  Bishop  Compton,  one  of  the 
stoutest  resisters  to  the  new  invasion  of  Papacy,  and 
one  of  the  seven  who  signed  the  invitation  to  William 
to  accept  the  Crown  of  England. 

Mary  Compton  was  now  in  her  youth  the  wife  of 
one  of  the  social  paradoxes  of  the  time.  Dorset  had 
been  one  of  the  wildest  young  men  of  Charles's  reign  ; 
he  with  Sedley  had  been  twice  publicly  charged  with 
faults  which  disgraced  themselves  as  much  as 
they  insulted  the  witnesses.  On  one  occasion  in 
the  garb  of  Adam  before  the  fall  they  had  from  the 

304 


Mary  Compton,  Countess  ok  Dorset 
{^Aftcr  Kiieller~) 


[to    face    I'AliE   304 


MARY    COAIPTON  305 

balcony  of  an  inn  harangued  the  crowd  in  blasphemous 
language  ;  on  another  they  were  charged  with  assault- 
ing the  watch  and  rushing  about  the  streets  without 
their  clothes  on.  Dorset  too  had  been  one  of  the 
party,  including  Henry  Belasyse,  who  killed  the  tanner 
and  rifled  his  pockets.  Yet  in  his  maturer  age  he  was 
known  as  a  man  of  letters,  of  kindly  heart  and  sincere 
manners.  He  patronized  men  of  literary  worth  and 
was  a  friend  of  Dryden.  On  one  occasion,  when  at 
his  house  at  Knole  Park,  in  Kent,  with  a  party  of 
friends,  it  was  agreed  that  each  man  should  write  an 
impromptu,  of  which  Dryden  should  name  the  best. 
Dorset  wrote  a  line  or  two  and  threw  the  paper  over 
to  Dryden.  It  ran,  "  I  promise  to  pay  Mr.  Dryden 
^500  on  demand."  Such  an  impromptu  could  be 
given  no  second  place  by  a  needy  poet.  Dorset  was 
also  the  author  of  the  well-known  poem  :  "To  all  you 
ladies  now  on  land." 

When  he  married  Mary  Compton  he  was  in  early 
middle  age  and  had  finished  sowing  his  wild  oats ; 
thus  his  true  character  had  a  chance  of  appearing, 
and  it  expressed  itself  in  a  love  for  his  wife  and  home, 
his  fidelity  to  his  Countess  causing  Sir  George  Etherege 
to  write  of  him  with  great  contempt.  They  lived 
chiefly  at  Copt  Hall,  at  Waltham,  where  we  hear  twice 
of  the  Countess,  and  she  seems  certainly  to  have 
been  both  an  accomplished  housewife  and  a  woman 
of  resource. 

On  one  occasion  King  James,  who,  during  his 
brother's  reign,  had  hunted  three  times  a  week,  started 
out  for  a  day's  hunting,  an  amusement  which  was  not 
impossible  round  London  in  those  days.  The  quarry 
led  him  to  Hatfield,  where  it  was  killed,  and  James, 
u 


3o6      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

finding  that  his  horse  was  worn  out,  determined  to  go 
to  Copt  Hall,  which  was  fairly  near,  for  a  rest.  It 
happened  that  Dorset  had  gone  out  to  dine ;  Lady- 
Dorset  drove  out  to  see  some  friends,  and  gave  her 
butler  and  cook  liberty  to  attend  Waltham  Fair,  so 
much  renowned.  Indeed,  most  of  the  servants  had 
also  gone  there,  for  the  house  seems  to  have  been 
practically  locked  up.  When  the  King's  messenger 
arrived  and  told  the  groom  he  saw  who  was  coming, 
the  only  thing  the  man  could  think  of  doing  was  to 
ride  after  his  mistress  and  bring  her  back.  He  was 
fortunate  in  catching  her,  and  gave  the  King's 
message  as  he  had  received  it.  The  poor  lady  hesitated 
for  a  minute,  tempted  to  get  out  of  an  embarrassing 
and  difficult  situation  by  continuing  her  journey  and 
pretending  not  to  have  heard  that  the  King  was  there. 
But  a  second  messenger  followed  the  first,  hot  with 
dismay  and  fearing  that  his  mistress  would  not  be 
found. 

Lady  Dorset  drove  home  quickly  at  this  and,  arrived 
there,  sent  her  coach  to  meet  the  King  that  he  might 
travel  with  greater  ease.  Then  she  and  her  maid  went 
down  to  the  kitchen  and  pantries,  and  where  they 
found  doors  locked  and  the  keys  safely  hidden  away 
by  the  careful  cook  or  butler,  they  called  a  man  to 
break  them  open.  Thus  when  the  King  arrived  he 
found  a  table  laid  with  Royal  magnificence  and  a 
most  excellent  dinner  awaiting  him.  This  rather 
smacks  of  the  fairy  story,  but  it  is  told  in  all  solemnity 
in  the  life  of  a  great  statesman.  When  the  King  at 
last  went  his  way  again,  rested,  fed,  and  content,  he 
met  Lord  Dorset  on  the  road,  who  could  not  enough 
express  his  regret  at  not  being  at  home. 


MARY   COMPTON  307 

"  Make  no  excuse,  my  lord,"  replied  the   King  ; 
"  it  was  exceedingly  well  done  and  very  handsome." 

Dorset  was  a  Whig,  and  fully  sympathized  with  the 
desire  to  offer  the  Crown  to  William  and  Mary.    Thus 
the  next  incident  belongs  to  a  time  o£  trouble  and 
unrest.    Churchill,  Grafton,  and  George  of  Denmark 
— "  est-il-possible,"   as  James  nicknamed  him,  from 
his  constant  iteration  of  the  phrase — had  sneaked  over 
from  the  side  of  James  to  that  of  William.    Anne,  full 
of  duplicity  and  ambition,  feared  how  much  her  father 
knew  about  her  own  doings  in  the  matter  and  deter- 
mined to  flee  from  Whitehall  before  the  King  re- 
turned to  it.    So  one  night  Sarah  Churchill  and  Lady 
Fitzharding,   one    of    the    notorious   ViUiers    sisters, 
stole  up  the  back  stairs  and  waited  until  the  clock 
struck  one.     Then,  when  she  was  sure  that  all  was 
quiet,  Anne  slipped  down  with  them,  and  they  went 
through  the  Park  in  torrents  of  rain  to  a  coach  which 
Bishop  Compton  had  in  readiness  for  her.    Dorset  was 
waiting  at  the  door  from  which  they  emerged,  and 
helped  the  Princess  the  short  distance  through  the 
mud  of  the  Park  to  the  conveyance.    On  the  way  one 
of  her  high-heeled  shoes  got  stuck  fast  and  was  lost 
in  the  darkness,  which  gave  her  great  amusement,  and 
she  tried  to  hop  on  one  foot  until  Dorset,  taking  off 
one  of  his  long  gloves,  begged  her  to  put  it  on  as  a 
shoe,   thus  causing  peals   of  laughter.     The  Bishop 
took  them  all  to  his  house  in  Aldersgate  Street,  so 
that   Anne  could   sleep   there   the  remainder  of  the 
night ;   and  in  the  morning  they  set  out  for  Copt 
Hall. 

Here  the  Princess  was  welcomed  by  Lady  Dorset 
with  all  the  hospitality  and  state  for  which  her  home 


3o8      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

was  famed,  whether  it  was  King,  Princess,  or  poet 
who  asked  for  her  kindness ;  but  because  of  its  prox- 
imity to.  London  the  party  could  not  stay  there  long. 
So  they  rode  to  Nottingham,  the  Bishop  exchanging 
his  gaiters  for  a  buffjcoat  and  jack-boots,  and  his 
hymnal  for  a  sword  and  pistols. 

When  Mary  was  safely  settled  on  the  throne  she 
madeLadyDorset  one  of  her  Ladies  of  theBedchamber, 
and  the  Countess's  little  son  became  a  favourite  with 
the  brusque  and  taciturn  William.  Horace  Walpole 
tells  a  story  that  when  the  King  was  in  his  private 
closet  at  Kensington  there  came  a  tap  at  the  door. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  "  asked  the  King. 

"  Lord  Buck,"  was  the  answer.  Buckhurst  being 
one  of  Dorset's  titles. 

"  And  what  does  Lord  Buck  want  ?  "  asked  the 
King,  going  out  to  the  four-year-old  child. 

"  You  to  be  horse  to  my  coach  ;  I've  wanted  you  a 
long  time." 

King  William  succumbed  to  the  autocratic  young 
gentleman  and  dragged  the  toy  cart  up  and  down 
the  gallery  until  the  child  was  satisfied. 

Lord  Dorset  was  not  to  be  happy  with  Mary  long, 
for  she  died  in  August,  1691,  when  her  boy  was  but  a 
little  over  three  years  old,  and  there  is  no  record  of 
the  illness  from  which  she  suffered.  Queen  Mary 
was  deeply  grieved  at  her  loss,  for  she  knew  what  a 
loyal,  clever  friend  the  Countess  was.  The  Countess 
of  Nottingham  took  her  place  at  Court.  Lady  Dorset 
was  renowned  not  for  her  immorality  or  her  flippant 
wit,  but  for  her  beauty  and  her  understanding  ;  and 
though  understanding  is  one  of  the  most  valuable 
assets  in  life,  it  is  not  a  showy  one,  and  in  Lady  Dorset's 


MARY   COMPTON  309 

case  It  has  not  given  that  temptation  to  the  gossips 
and  letter-writers  of  the  period  to  record  her  doings 
as  a  more  flamboyant  quality  would  have  done. 

Her  son  Lionel    Cranfield   Sackville  was  the  first 
Duke  o£  Dorset. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

MARY  BENTINCK,   COUNTESS   OF  ESSEX 

"  If  you  mark,  when  for  her  pleasure, 
She  vouchsafes  to  foot  a  measure, 
Though  with  others'  skill  she  pace, 
There's  a  sweet  delightful  grace 
In  herself  which  doth  prefer 
Art  beyond  that  art  in  her." 

George  IVither. 

Of  Mary  Bentinck  there  is  nothing  to  record  excepting 
her  parentage,  her  marriage,  and  her  death.  She  was 
the  eldest  daughter  of  WilHam  Bentinck,  the  first 
Earl  of  Portland,  who  was,  especially  in  his  early  life, 
so  devoted  to  his  master  William  of  Orange.  Of  him 
it  is  told  that  when  William  was  taken  ill  with  small- 
pox, he  never  left  his  side  until  the  disease  had  been 
conquered  ;  then,  feeling  very  ill  himself,  he  begged 
that  he  might  have  a  holiday,  and  went  away  to  suffer 
the  same  terrible  illness  without  letting  the  knowledge 
of  it  weigh  upon  the  Prince  in  his  convalescence.  He 
it  was  who  received  the  confidences  and  witnessed  the 
emotions  of  the  taciturn  husband  of  Mary  H.  "  Does 
the  King  never  talk  ?  "  asked  a  nobleman  of  one  of 
the  youths  who  served  His  Majesty  at  table. 

"  Only  in  the  evening,  when  he  is  with  my  Lord 
Portland  and  other  Dutch  friends,  drinking  Sniedam 
and  smoking,"  was  the  reply. 

The  first  child  was  born  to  William  Bentinck  and 

310 


Mary  Bentinck,  Countess  of  Essex 
(^After  Kiieller) 


[to  face  page  31ij 


MARY   BENTINCK  311 

his  wife  in  1679,  ^°  that  Mary  was  nearly  ten  years  old 
before  she  came  to  England.  The  man  she  married 
was  Algernon,  the  second  Earl  of  Essex,  son  of  that 
good  man  about  whose  mysterious  and  violent  death 
in  the  Tower  there  were  so  many  conflicting  accounts. 
His  birth  took  place  in  1670,  and  almost  from  his 
childhood  he  was  an  upholder  of  the  pretensions  of 
William  of  Orange  to  the  English  throne.  He  served 
with  him  in  Flanders,  was  a  Lieutenant-General  of 
the  army  and  Colonel  of  the  4th  Regiment  of  Dra- 
goons. He  came  to  England  with  William  and  his 
inseparable  adviser  Bentinck,  whose  daughter  he 
married  in  1692.  The  peerage  books  give  this  date 
and  also  1698,  but  Mary's  first  child,  a  son,  was  born 
in  1697,  and  therefore  it  is  reasonable  to  believe  in 
the  earlier  date. 

Mary  was  fond  of  dancing,  and  at  a  ball  given  at 
St.  James's  she  is  picked  out  by  a  contemporary  as 
one  of  the  best  dancers  present,  while  her  husband  is 
mentioned  as  one  of  the  three  best  among  the  men  ; 
a  small  item  of  news,  which  yet  lets  in  a  little  light  upon 
her  character. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  believe  that  this  portrait  was 
painted  when  the  Countess  was  an  immature  girl  of 
sixteen,  and  it  is  probable  that  William  ordered  the 
number  of  portraits  to  be  completed  after  his  wife's 
death,  for  Kneller  worked  in  England  into  the  reign 
of  George  I.  It  was  from  her  husband's  sister,  who  as 
Lady  Carlisle  lived  to  a  great  age,  that  we  have  the 
story  of  Queen  Mary's  obstinacy  in  forming  this  gallery 
of  beauties. 

During  the  reign  of  Anne  Lord  Essex  was  made 
Constable  of  the  Tower  of  London,  a  post  which  he 


312      FAIR  LADIES  OF  HAMPTON  COURT 

held  until  his  death  in  1710.  Four  years  later  his  wife 
married  a  second  time,  her  husband  being  Sir  Conyers 
D'Arcy.  By  her  first  marriage  she  had  one  son  and 
two  daughters,  but  there  is  no  record  o£  children  by 
the  second.    She  died  in  1726. 

This  account  of  a  group  of  women  long  since  dead 
has  drawn  to  its  close,  and  one  reflection  must  come 
to  all  who  have  read  the  foregoing  pages.  It  is  that 
the  lives  of  the  greatest  sinners  give  far  more  scope 
to  the  biographer,  and  are  studied  with  far  more 
interest  by  the  reader  than  the  lives  of  the  virtuous. 
It  is,  however,  idle  to  apologize  for  the  deficiencies  of 
history,  which,  however  scientific  it  should  be  in  its 
aim,  always  describes  dramatic  events  rather  than 
domestic  virtues. 


Index 


A 

Albemarle,  Duchess  of,  201 
Anglesey,  Earl  of  (Charles  Vil- 

liers),  46 
Anglesey,  Lady,  119 
Anne,  Queen,  20,  102,  213,  220, 

224,  275,  300,  307 
Arlington,  Earl  of  (Henry  Bennet), 

58,  59.  61,  71,  75,  128,  233, 

235,  240,  284,  286,  289 
Arlington,  Lady,  235,  237,  284, 

286 
Armine,  Sir  William,  172 
Arran,  Earl  of,  29,  32 
Arundel,  Lord,  258 
Aubrey,  Lives,  157,  161,  162 

B 

Bagot,  Colonel  Harvey,  122 

Bagot,  Mary.     See  Falmouth 
Barillon,      French     ambassador, 

211,  220,  221,  253,  258,  261, 

262,  264 
Bath,  Earl  of,  265 
Beauclerc,Charles.  SeeSt. Albans, 

Duke  of 
Beauclerc,  Mrs.,  252 
Beaufort,  Duke  of,  231 
Belasysc,  Sir  Henry,  173,  175  et 

^^f-»  295,  304 
Belasyse,  Sir  Henry  (the  younger), 

182 
Belasyse,    Lady   (Anne  Poulet), 

172,  173 
Belasyse,  John,  Baron,  172,  176, 

180, 258 


Belasyse,  Lady  (Susan  Armine), 
16,  22,  172  et  seq.,  188,  221 

Bennet,  Henry.  See  Arlington, 
Earl  of 

Bennet,  Isabella.  See  Grafton, 
Duchess  of 

Berkeley,  Sir  Charles.  See  Fal- 
mouth, Earl  of 

Berkeley,  Lord,  of  Stratton,  182 

Berry,  Sir  John,  289 

Berry,  Miss,  119 

Blague,  Miss,  maid  of  honour, 
135  et  seq.,  275 

Blandford,  Bishop  of  Worcester, 

Bohemia,  Queen  of,  28 

Bonrepos,  French  emissary,  220 

Bourbon,  Duchess  of,  259 

Bowcher,  Mr.,  119 

Boyle,  Richard,  126 

Bret,  Dick,  196 

Brisacier,  Marquis  de,  137,  139, 
141 

Brissac,  Duchesse  de,  190 

Bristol,  Earl  of  (George  Digby), 
151,  153,  160,  210,  211,  212 

Bristol,  Lady,  216 

Brooke,  Lady  Elizabeth,  153 

Brooke,  Frances.  See  Lady  Whit- 
more 

Brooke,  Margaret.  See  Lady 
Denham 

Brooke,  William,  152 

Brouncker,  Mr.,  159 

Brown,  Sir  Richard,  255 

Buckhurst,  Lord.  See  Dorset,  Earl 
of 


313 


3H 


INDEX 


Buckhurst,  Lionel,  Lord,  308 
Buckingham,  Duchess  of  (Mary 

Fairfax),  47,  102 
Buckingham,   Duke    of  (George 

VilHers),   25,  38,  47,  61,   70, 

71,  72,  75,  85,  96,  103,  141, 

176,  179,187,  191,  232,  242, 

286 
Buckingham,  Sheffield,  Duke  of, 

229 
Bulkeley,   Lady  (Sophia   Stuart), 

119 
Burnet,  Bishop,  17,  35,  40,  86, 

89,  123,  179,   180,  208,  217, 

232,  236,  262,  266,  299 
Burford,  Earl  of.    See  St.  Albans, 

Duke  of 
Byron,  Lady,  22,  49 


Cabal,  the,  61 

Carlisle,  Lady,  311 

Carnegy,  Lady.  See  Southesk, 
Countess  of 

Carr,  Sir  Robert,  177 

Castlemaine,  Earl  of  (Roger 
Palmer),  48,  50-1,  53,  57,  107 

Castlemaine,  Countess  of  (Barbara 
Villiers),  16,  38,  40,  45  ^/W., 
76  et seq.,iiiy  118,128,193-4, 
214,  229,  232,  234,  239,  241, 
243,  246,  248,  250,  262,  285, 
287,  288 

Catherine  of  Braganza,  43,  52, 
54,  58,  63,  68,  72,  79,  85, 
93,  96,  102,  116,  128,  135, 
189,  205,  241,  244,  254,  257, 
261,  263,  266 

Cecil,  Margaret.  See  Ranelagh, 
Countess  of 

Charles  I,  45,  156 

Charles  II,   15    et   seq.,   28,   30, 

33»  37.  38.  4i»  45»  49>  5°, 

52,    54    et    seq.,    id    et  seq.. 


115-16,118,  123,126-7,129, 

131.  i39»  144.  I47»i5^  i54» 

160,  180,  183,  185,  187-8, 
194, 195,  203,  205,  208,  212, 
220,  229  et  seq.,  274,  285-6, 
288,  293,  296,  300 

Chesterfield,  Earl  of,  37,  47,  82, 

161,  163 

Chesterfield,  Lady,  37,  39,  50, 

82,  145,  158 
Chichester,  Lord,  184 
Chiffinch,  William,  page  of  the 

back  stairs,  91,  120 
Churchill,  Arabella,  39 
Churchill,  John  (afterwards  Duke 

of  Marlborough),  39,  103,  307 
Churchill,  Lady  Mary,  279 
Cibber,  Colley,  19 
Clarendon,     Earl     of    (Edward 

Hyde),  21  et  seq.,  33,  42,  46 

55,  61,  62,  89,  95,  97,   126, 

i54»  274 
Clarendon,  second  Earl  of,  204 
Clarendon,  Earl  of  (Edward,  Vis- 
count Cornbury),  94,  282 
Cleveland,  Duchess  of.   5^^  Castle- 
maine, Countess  of 
Clifford,  Thomas,  Lord,  61,  247 
Colbert,  Monsieur,  235,  237 
Comminges,  Comte  de,  212 
Compton,  Bishop,  304,  307 
Compton,    Mary.      See    Dorset, 

Countess  of 
Compton,  Sir  Spencer,  29,  304 
Congreve,  William,  272 
Coningsby,  Lord,  302 
Conway,  Lord,  163 
Cornbury,  Viscount.     See  Claren- 
don, Earl  of 
Courcelles,  Sidonie  de,  254 
Courtin,    Honore,     Seigneur    de 
Chanteroine,  115  et  seq.,  251, 
252,  268 
Coventry,  Sir  William,  123 
Crofts.     See  Monmouth,  Duke  of 


INDEX 


315 


Croissy,  Monsieur  de,  188 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  30 
Crowne,  John,  275 
Cumberland,  Duke  of,  20,  307 

D 

Dangeau,  Marquis  de,  149 
D'Arcy,  Sir  Conyers,  312 
Davenport,  Mrs.  ("  Roxalana  "), 

295 
Davies,  Moll,  actress,  99,  229 
Deleau,  Mrs.,  108 
Denham,  Sir  John,  38,  126,  155, 

158,  160 
Denham,  Lady  (Margaret  Brooke), 

16,  22,  37,  38,  145,  151  et 

seq.,  231,  273 
Digby,  Francis,  72 
Digby,  George.  S^^  Bristol,  Earl  of 
Dorchester,  Duchess  of  (Catherine 

Sedley),  14,  268 
Dorset,  Countess  of  (Mary  Comp- 

ton),  274,  304  et  seq. 
Dorset,    Earl  of  (Charles  Sack- 

ville),  98,  130,  i']6,  2,0^  et  seq. 
Dryden,    John,    129,   167,  168, 

177,  196,  239,  293,  305 
Dugdale,  Sir  William,  241 


Essex,  Countess  of  (Mary  Ben- 

tinck),  310^/  seq. 
Essex,  Earl  of,  300,  311 
Etherege,  Sir  George,  305 
Evelyn,  John,  95,  104,  no,  115, 
160,  190,   200,  210,  214-15, 
218,  222,  224,  233,  235,  237, 
254-6,   262,  268,    274,    286, 
288-9,  296 
Evelyn,  Mary,  205 


Fairfax,  Mary.    See  Buckingham, 
Duchess  of 


Falmouth,  Countess  of  (Mary 
Bagot),  22,  122  et  seq.,  304 

Falmouth,  Earl  of  (Charles 
Berkeley),  29,  31,  34  et  seq., 
58-9,  69,  123  et  seq.,  171 

Fayette,  Mme.  de  la,  190-1 

Feilding,  Robert  ("Beau"),  107 

Fever  sham.  Earl  of,  265 

Fielding,  Henry,  301 

Fitzharding,  Lady,  307 

Fitzharding,  Lord,  88 

Fitzroy,  Barbara.  See  Lichfield, 
Countess  of 

Fitzroy,  Charles.  See  Southamp- 
ton, Duke  of 

Fontenelle,  French  censor  of  the 
press,  150 

Forneron,  H.,  129,  239,  251, 
253».256 

Fountaine,  Sir  Andrew,  170 

Fox,  Jane,  216 

Fox,  Stephen,  216 

Eraser,  Sir  Alexander,  274 

Eraser,  Carey.  See  Peterborough, 
Countess  of 

Eraser,  Sir  Peter,  274 


Gascoigne,  Sir  Bernard,  102 

George  I,  268,  311 

George,  Prince.    See  Cumberland, 

Duke  of 
Gerrard,  Lady,  60 
Godolphin,  Earl  of,  1 19,  261 
Goodman,  Cardonnell,  107 
Grafton,     Duchess    of    (Isabella 

Bennet),  127,  284  et  seq. 
Grafton,  Duke  of,  127,  188,  248, 

265,  286  et  seq.,  307 
Grafton,  Duke   of  (grandson    of 

foregoing),  108-9 
Gramont,  Count,  23,  30,  33,  39, 

4o>  43.59»67,  7o-i»  78,  81-2, 
85,  104,  no  et  seq.,  124, 
131-2,162,164,234,273,299 


3i6 


INDEX 


Gramont,  Countess  of,  i6,  38,  39, 
III,    114,    125,    131    et   seq., 

273. 
Grandison,  Lady,  45-6 
GrandisoD,     Viscount     (William 

Villiers),  45 
Granger's  Biographical  Dicfiofiary, 

170,  179 
Grey,  Earl,  267 

Gunning,  Elizabeth  and  Maria,  13 
Gwyn,  Nell,  16,  19,  45,  62,  98, 

105,  229,  242  et  seq.,  250-1, 

257,  266,  293-4 

H 

Halifax,  Lady  (Gertrude  Pierre- 
point),  173 

Hall,  Jacob,  105 

Hallam,  Henry,  45 

Hamilton,  Anne.  See  Southesk, 
Lady 

Hamilton,  Anthony,  23,  80,  8^, 

133.  149 
Hamilton,    Elizabeth.     See   Gra- 
mont, Countess  of 
Hamilton,  Sir  George,  131,  146 
Hamilton,  Colonel  James,  60,  72 
Harmer,  Sir  Thomas,  292 
Hart,   Charles,  98-9,  103,  243 
Harvey,  Sir  Daniel,  97 
Harvey,  Lady,  117,  251-2 
Harvey,  Mathew,  168 
Henley,  Mr.,  266 
Henrietta  Maria,  Queen,  28,  30, 

34,  40,  45,  56,  63,  75 
Hervey,  Lord  John,  291 
Hobart,   Miss,    maid   of  honour. 

Holt,  Lord  Chief  Justice,  107 
Hoppy,  a  tanner,  176 
Hough,  Dr.  John,  206 
Howard,  Henry.     See    Norfolk, 

Duke  of 
Huddleston,  John,  265 


Hyde,  Anne.    See  York,  Duchess 

of 
Hyde,   Edward.     See  Clarendon, 

Earl  of 


James  II,  16,  19,  30  et  seq.,  51, 
77,  80,  82  ^/  seq.y  90,  114, 
123,     126-8,     131     et    seq.y 

145.  155  ^^  ^^f-»  179  ^^  ^^1-y 
187-8,  191,  208,  218,  222, 
235»    238,    240,    247,    253, 
258-9,  262,  264,  267,  273, 
289,  305 
Jameson,    Mrs.    Anna,    49,    50, 
170,  182,  187,  205,  210,  213, 
294 
Jennings,  Frances,  38-9,  90 
Jennings,  Sarah.  S^^  Marlborough, 

Duchess  of 
Jermyn,  Henry,  29,  32,  40,  64, 

96,  103,  105,  128,  132 
Jones,  Lady  Elizabeth,  118 
Jones,  Lady  Katherine,  118 
Jones,    Richard.    See   Ranelagh, 
Earl  of 

K 

Kellaway,  Anne,  23 

Keroualle,  Comte  and  Comtesse 
de,  230,  255 

Keroualle,  Louise  de.  See  Ports- 
mouth, Duchess  of 

Keroualle,  Sebastian,  231 

Kildare,  Lady,  206 

Killigrew,  Thomas,  29,  32,  39, 
81,  88 

Kneller,  Sir  Godfrey,  14,  22,  24 
etseq.,  271,  311 

Kcinigsmarck,  Count,  197 

L 

Lacy,  John,  98,  243 
Lauderdale,  61 


INDEX 


317 


Lely,  Sir  Peter,  14,  15,  22  et  seq.^ 
44,  no,  114,  120,  122,  131, 
145,  152,  203 
Lichfield,    Lady  (Barbara  Fitz- 

roy),  103,  257 
Lichfield,  Lee,  Earl  of,  241 
Lionne,  Marquis  de,  212 
Louis  XIV,  63,  82,  III,  115, 
129,   145,    187,  220-2,  229, 
232,   238-41,  251-2,  258-9, 

261,  268 

Louvois,  French  minister,  116 
Lyttelton,  Sir  Charles,  196 

M 

Macaulay,  Lord,  61,  289 
Maintenon,  Mme.  de,  148,  268 
Mallet,  Elizabeth,  203 
Marlborough,  Duchess  of  (Sarah 

Jennings),  275,  283,  307 
Marvell,  Andrew,  151,  161, 164 
Mary  II,  Queen,  14,  20,  23,  253, 

258,   269,    274-5,  292,  297, 

302,  307-8,  310 
Mary   Beatrice   of  Modena,    87, 

102,  117,  188,  208,  215,  221, 

269,  275 
May,  Baptist,  120 
May,  Charles,  120 
Mayenne,  Due  de,  249 
Mazarin,  Cardinal,  35,  249 
Mazarin,      Hortense,      Duchess, 

1 1 6-1 7,  119,  248  etscq.,  260, 

262,  277 

Middleton,    Charles,    no,    112, 

Middleton,  Lady  (Frances  Whit- 
more),  167,  274,  281  et  seq. 

Middleton,  Mrs.  Jane,  no  etseq., 
i33-4»  I44»  252,  254,  273, 
281,  299 

Middleton,  Sir  Richard,  283 

Middleton,  Sir  Thomas,  1 10 

Monk,  Lord,  295 


Monmouth,    Duchess    of   (Anne 

Scott),  59 
Monmouth,  Duke  of,  57,  59,  83, 

85,  121,  218,  262,  266,  275, 

289 
Montagu,  John,  201 
Montagu,  Lady   Mary  Wortley, 

Montagu,  Ralph,  106,  in,  114, 

188  ei  seq.,  233 
Montespan,  Mme.  de,  230 
Mordaunt,  Lady  Mary,  275 
Morland,  Sir  Samuel,  50 
Mul  grave,  129 
Muskerry,  Lady,  135  et  seq. 
Muskerry,  Lord,  126,  138,  141 

N 

Nash,  Beau,  149 
Needham,  Eleanor,  121 
Needham,  Sir  Robert,  no 
Nicholson,  Sir  Edward,  61 
Norfolk,      Duke      of     (Henry 

Howard),   132 
North,  Roger,  224 
Northampton,     Earl    of   (James 

Compton),  304 
Northumberland,      Countess      of 

(Elizabeth  Wriothesley),    183 

et  seq. 
Northumberland,  Dowager  Coun- 
tess of,  189,  1 9 1-2,  195 
Northumberland,  Duke  of  (Fitz- 

roy),  108,   234,    266,    296-7 
Northumberland,  Earlof(Joscelyn 

Percy),  184  ei  seq..,  234 

o 

Gates,  Titus,  86,  225,  257 
Ogle,  Earl  of  (Henry  Cavendish), 

195,  198 
Orange,  Princess  of,  28,  30,  2)Z'> 

37.     Zee  Mary  II 


3i8 


INDEX 


Orkney,Lady  (Elizabeth  Villiers), 

269 
Orleans,  Due  de,  231 
Orleans,  Henrietta,   Duchess  of, 

6s,  147,  189,  229,  231  ct  se^. 
Ormond,  Duke  of,  6r,  165,  292 
Orrery,  Lady,  22 
Ossory,  Countess  of  (Anne  Hyde), 

205 
Ossory,  Earl  of,  35, 165,  205,  207 
Otway,  Thomas,  284 
Oxford,Earl  of  (Aubrey  deVere), 

54.  295 


Palmer,     Barbara.     See     Castle- 

maine,  Countess  of 
Palmer,  Roger.    See  Castlemaine, 

Earl  of 
Pembroke,  Earl  of,  247 
Penancoet,     Guillaume    de.     See 

Keroualle,  Comte 
Pepys,  Samuel,  23,  31,  42-4,  50, 

56,  59,  66-8,  77,  80,  95,  99, 

loi,    115,    120,   127-8,  159, 

160,  164,  178,  211 
Percy,      Elizabeth      (afterwards 

Duchess    of   Somerset),    185, 

188, 191,  194  et  seq.,  286,  297 
Peterborough,  Countess  of  (Carey 

Eraser),  254,  273  et  seq. 
Peterborough,    Earl    of  (Charles 

Mordaunt),  274  r/  seq. 
Pierrepoint,  Gertrude.     See  Hali- 
fax, Lady 
Pitt,  Miss  (Mrs.  Scrope),  21,  273 
Pitt,  Thomas  ("Diamond"),  22 
Pope,  Alexander,  24,  122,  174, 

273»  279,  304 
Porter,  Tom,  197,  295 
Portland,  Earl  of  (William  Ben- 

tinck),  310 
Portsmouth,  Duchess  of  (Louise 

de  Keroualle),  16,  25,  48,  62, 


99,  116-17,  187,  193,  195, 
229  et  seq.,  277,  285,  300 

Povey,  Mr.,  42 

Powis,  Lord,  258 

Price,  Miss,  maid  of  honour,  39, 
139,  141,  159 

Prior,  Matthew,  228 

R 

Ramsay,  Allan,  no 

Ranelagh,  Countess  of  (Margaret 

Cecil),  299  et  seq. 
Ranelagh,     Earl     of     (Richard 

Jones),  113,  299  et  seq. 
Reresby,  Sir  John,  131-2,173-6, 

179 
Richardson  the  fire-eater,  215 
Richmond,  Duchess  of  (Frances 

Stuart),  16,  40,  59,  62  et  seq., 

76  ^/  seq..  Ill,  118,  203,  229, 

.234 
Richmond,    Duchess    of   (Mary 

Villiers),  52,  89 
Richmond,     Duke    of    (Charles 

Lennox),     239,      248,      257, 

266-8,   296 
Richmond,    Duke     of   (Charles 

Stuart),  85,  89  ^//^f.,  100,  loi, 

132,  i43»  182,  241 
Robinson,  Anastasia,  280 
Rochester,  Countess  of  (Henrietta 

Boyle),  162,  203  et  seq. 
Rochester,    Earl    of   (Lawrence 

Hyde),  1 19,  203  If/  sfq.,  261-2 
Rochester,  Earl  of  ( Wilmot),  1 96, 

203 
Roettier,  Philip,  the  medallist,  84 
Romney,  Earl  of  (Henry  Sidney), 

39,  185,  211,  21T  et  seq.,  258 
Ross,  Lord,  201 
Russell,  Colonel,  144 
Russell,  Lady  Dorothy,  277 
Russell,  Edward,  152-3 
Russell,  Lady  (Rachel  Wriothes- 


INDEX 


319 


ley),    120,    i74-5»   1S3,  185, 
188,  192,  194,  198,200 
Russell,  Lord  William,  115,  132, 
144,  152,  174,  186,  199 


Sackville,  Edward,  176 

St.  Albans,   Duchess  of  (Diana 

de  Vere),  293  et  seq. 
St,    Albans,    Duke    of  (Charles 

Beauclerc),    244,  266,  294  et 

seq. 
St.  Albans,  Lord,  40,  46 
St.    Evremond,   112,    119,   120, 

i43>  149 
Salisbury,  Earl  of  (James),  301 
Sandwich,  Earl  of,  51,  74,  77 
Sault,  Comte  de,  230 
Savile,  Harry,  186 
Scrope,  Sir  Carr,  275 
Seccombe,  Mr.  Thomas,  197 
Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  304 
Sevigne,    Mme.    de,    148,    190, 

244,  250 
Sheldon,  Archbishop,  86,  286 
Sheridan,  Tom,  19,  299 
Shrewsbury,  Countess  of,  111,179 
Sidney,  Sir  Henry,    ^ee  Romney, 

Earl  of 
Somerset,  Duke  of,  199 
Southampton,  Duke  of  (Charles 

Fitzroy),  53,   194,  234,  248, 

266 
Southampton,   Earl    of  (Thomas 

Wriothesley),  61,  183,  184 
Southesk,    Countess    of,    22,    23, 

37»  47>  170 
Spencer,  Lord,  216 
Stafford,  Lord,  258,  259 
Steinman,  G.  S.,  46,  78,  274 
Stowell,  Earl  of  (John),  301 
Strickland,  Miss,  274 
Stuart,  Frances.     Zee  Richmond, 

Duchess  of 


Suffolk,  Countess  of,  54 
Suffolk,  Earl  of,  192 
Sunderland,   Countess    of  (Anne 

Digby),  210  et  seq.^  237,  258, 

284,  286 
Sunderland,  Countess  of  (Dorothy 

Sidney,    "  Sacharissa "),     117, 

119,  211,  229 
Sunderland,     Earl     of    (Robert 

Spencer),  116,  186,  211  etseq.y 

235»  258-9,  286 
Sussex,  Countess  of  (Anne  Fitz- 
roy), 50,  106,  116,  193,  257, 

275 
Swift,  Jonathan,  182,  279,  292, 

303 


Talbot,  Earl  of,  29,  32 
Temple,  Lady,  197 
Temple,  Sir  Richard,  212 
Termes,    servant    to     Comte    de 

Gramont,  134,  139,  142 
Thynne,  Thomas  ("Tom  of  Ten 

Thousand"),  ig6  et  seq. 
Trevor,  Lady,  197 
Tyrconnel,  Earl  of,  132,  145 

V 

Valliere,  Louise  de,  230 
Vendome,  Abbe  (Grand  Prior  of 

France),  242,  261 
Verelst,  Simon,  16,  25,  227,228 
Verrio,  Antonio,  285 
Villiers,  Barbara.    S^^  Castlemaine 
Viner,  Sir  Robert,  248 
Vratz,  Captain,  197 

W 

Wadsworth,  Mary  (Mrs.  Feild- 

ing),  108 
Waller,  Edmund,  76,  84,   115, 

119,  156,  183 


320 


INDEX 


Walpolc,   Horace,  23,  157,   170 

Walters,  Lucy,  229 

Warmestre,  Miss,  maid  of  hon- 
our, 113,  134 

Wells,  Miss,  maid  of  honour, 
105 

Wentworth,  Lady  Henrietta,  121, 

275 
Wentworth,  Thomas,  176 

Whitmore,  Lady  (Frances 
Brooke),  22,  23,  152,  154, 
167  et  seq.,  281 

Whitmore,  Sir  Thomas,  167-8 

Whitmore,  William,  281 

William  III,  Prince  of  Orange, 
14,    20,     200,    218,     221-3, 


252,   258-g,  268,   273,   297, 

307>  310 
Wither,  George,  156 
Wood,  Sir  Henry,  194 
Wriothesley,  Audrey,  184 
Wriothesley,       Elizabeth.       See 

Northumberland,  Countess  of 
Wycherley,  William,  106 


York,  Duchess  of  (Anne  Hyde), 
14,  16,  27  etseq.,  79,90,  115, 
122,    123,  134,  161,   163-4, 
181,  189,304 
York,  Duke  of.    5^^  James  II 
Yarborough,  Sir  Thomas,  142 


WILUAM   BRENDON  AND  bON,   UTD. 
PRINTERS.    PLYMOUTH 


D^^ 


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